An Affair To Remember
by dramagoddess202
Summary: Hannibal never expected to see Francesca Barrett again after he had broken her heart. But there she was, standing in front of the A-Team, ready to take them back to prison. Hannibal/OC Longer summary inside!
1. Chapter 1: Never Say Goodbye

**Hello, fellow A-Team lovers! **

**This is my first A-Team fic that has been in the works since I first saw the movie (I know, it took a long time). **

**I just need to give you a little scoop on this. **

**The main story takes place right at the end of the movie. There are going to be many flashbacks to explain the relationship between Hannibal and Francesca. **

**Hannibal's relationship with a young agent in the CID ends abruptly when he leaves her for his mission. Suddenly, she shows up again in his life and that of the A-Team's. What will they do when a conspiracy threatens the livelihood of them and their loved ones? And will this give Hannibal and Francesca one last chance?**

**Hannibal/OC**

**Reviews=love!**

**Love, **

**DG**

_Flashback-The Departure_

The young girl lifted her head from the pillow, reaching for the white robe with a green insignia. Hannibal fumbled with his belt buckle, tossing his hair from his eyes.

She smiled as she sat up, "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I'm leaving," he looked down at her.

"Leaving…" she trailed off.

Hannibal bit the inside of his cheek, "It's our mission. There really isn't away around it."

"Not even one last kiss?" the girl rose from the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist.

He stopped, trying to swallow, "I can't do this anymore. It's too much."

Pulling back, she frowned, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying goodbye," he turned to her, a grave look on his face. "Francesca, this was never supposed to happen. Us…"

Francesca's heart swelled up inside her, "It wasn't supposed to, but aren't you glad it did?"

"You're young and naïve. You don't know what you want," Hannibal bit his lip.

"Yes!" she felt desperate, taking the fabric of his shirt in her hands. "Yes I do. You can't leave. You can't leave me, John."

He didn't speak, averting his eyes from her blue ones.

"You can't…" she choked out.

Hannibal took both his hands, wrapped them around hers, and pried them away from his shirt, "Goodbye, Francesca." He thought he had to do it. He knew he had to leave her behind. Because otherwise, he'd hurt her. However, the colonel didn't realize how much more he was hurting her at that moment than he ever could.

As he left, the color in Francesca's face drained of color. She had no more strength left in her. The room was spinning, the stuffy hotel room with two queen sized beds and a depressingly empty armoire. Francesca stood there for a good five minutes with tears streaming down her cheeks. There was a knock on the door. She saw a glimmer of hope as she went to open it.

But it wasn't Hannibal. It was a man with undefined features. There was no way she could identify him other than a flick of yellow on his coat. "Francesca Barrett?"

"Yes?"

"We understand that you have information we may need," his hand reached into his coat, closing the door behind him.

She frowned, "We, who's we?"

The man pushed her forward. Francesca felt the barrel of the gun pressing against her abdomen, "What do you want?"

"Just tell me where the A-Team is and nobody gets hurt," he growled. "No sudden movements."

Keeping her mouth closed, she plotted as he answered his phone.

"Oh really," the man turned away. "They're here."

Francesca swiftly reached for the vase sitting on the shelf beside the armoire. She raised it as she went closer to the man. But before she could hit him, he turned and shot.

_End Flashback_

_5 years and 47 missions later_

Face stuck his tongue out revealing a delicate key. The three other men laughed.

"I love it when a plan comes together…" he droned, staring at Hannibal.

Murdock cackled, hopping off the bench for a moment.

"Alright, what's the plan?" B.A. leaned forward.

Face shrugged, "You wanna take this one, boss?"

Hannibal smiled crookedly, "Step one." He turned around and twiddled his fingers through the cuffs.

The younger man spit the key into his open hand.

"Oh, come on," Hannibal closed his eyes for a moment.

"If you can handle being punched in the face ten times in a row, I think you can handle a little saliva," Murdock smirked, tapping his foot on the ground.

Face stood up, "You'd think."

"I would like to keep my sanity, thank you," Hannibal replied.

Whistling, Murdock rolled his eyes, "Sanity is overrated."

Fumbling with the key, Face stuck it into the lock and carefully turned it. Hannibal felt his wrists set free from the metal chains. He breathed out heavily, took the key and began to unlock the rest of them, "Okay, this is going to be quick, it's going to be simple."

"And by simple you mean for us or them?" B.A. cracked his knuckles in preparation.

"For us, of course," Face scoffed.

Hannibal frowned, "Quiet down. Now, listen. Face, you're distraction. You're going to get one of the guards to come back here. Show him that you have your cuffs off. Threaten them."

Face nodded, biting back his words.

"So, as this happens, B.A., you're going to hold the guard back and cuff him," Hannibal continued.

B.A. shook his head, "Nobody could be that dumb, man."

"Trust me. You don't know what you can do to people until you try," Hannibal patted the inside of his coat, feeling the plethora of cigars.

"Hold on," Face held out his hand.

"Now, we have to be very careful. Murdock, I want you to take the role of the driver," he held out the cuffs.

Murdock smiled and accepted them, "Oh, jolly good."

"After that, we will regroup," Hannibal relaxed back into his seat.

The plan began quickly. Face stood up and grasped the door that separated them from the guards, "Hey, yeah I'm talking to you. Next time, you might want to do a better job of keeping me locked up."

One of them looked up from the road, "Dammit, Peck."

"Well what're you going to do about it?" Face backed away from the door, when Hannibal shot a look B.A.'s way to signal him.

The guard quietly opened the door, not expecting any funny business. Instead, he was tugged down by B.A. and forced into the pair of handcuffs he never wanted to wear.

"Hey!" he shouted, falling to the floor of the cabin. "What the hell?"

"Oh, holy…" was all the driver managed to sputter out.

"Hell is right," B.A. cracked his knuckles, holding the man around the chest.

Murdock leapt forward through the door, "Now if you play nice, we won't crash the car."

"No, no way," the driver tried to keep his focus on the road, but Hannibal came through as well, carefully wrestling the man away from the wheel.

"We don't _want _hurt you," Hannibal pulled him back. "But we may have to if you don't cooperate."

Murdock smiled to himself, steering the car from the passenger side with the greatest of ease. There was a struggle in the back, but B.A. and Face were handling it rationally.

As they continued down the road, they were able to secure the spot at the driver's seat. Hannibal called them up to the front, "Alright. There's an airfield around her somewhere." He scanned the terrain. Murdock had driven them onto a side road and they all knew that they were being followed. "There!" he pointed. "Right there, drive!"

The groans of the two men in the back were barely audible. Face was sitting back there, ready to snap on them if they tried anything funny.

"But boss, where're we goin'?" B.A. lowered his voice.

"Not here, B.A.," Hannibal jerked his head back at the two guards.

They approached a gate at one end of the field. Murdock grinned from ear to ear and rolled down his window to come face to face with a member of security.

"Can I… help you?" the security guard looked back to see the commotion in the van.

"Yes," Murdock held his head up, changing the tone of his voice.

Face closed his eyes, "Murdock…"

"_So long, farewell,_" the pilot sang, stepping on the gas pedal. The roar of the engine caused the guard to fall back, before he realized that something was wrong.

The van lurched forward, breaking through a weak barrier between that kept the team from the field. Leaving the security behind, they drove forward to the sets of aircrafts lined up. Each one looked so perfect. If you touch it, it disintegrates and you just ruined a master piece of massive proportion.

Not so much.

Commotion swirled around the car, rounds of bullets shot at them. B.A. ducked back in between Murdock and Hannibal. The captives squirmed and Face tried to keep the two steady.

"Face, get up here!" Hannibal turned back. "We've got to get out."

Murdock pulled up to a smaller aircraft, seemingly ready for take off, and stopped the car. The four of them jumped out of the car, ducking from bullets. Hannibal ushered the others into the plane. Murdock sat with his hands cramping up. His excitement was almost immeasurable. Finally, he gained back the little senses he had and started the plane.

B.A. cringed in the behind the pilot, worried of what was to come next.

"Let's just get out of here," Hannibal smiled.

They ended up landing in a rural area, nine hours from their starting point. Hannibal had led them into Arden Forest, humid and sticky. No one wanted to be there, but Hannibal knew what they had to do.

Face followed behind the other men sluggishly, dragging his feet through the mud. He moaned a bit, "Are we there yet?"

"Don't complain, Face," Hannibal muttered.

"I think I reserve the right, considering I got us out of that damn van," Face reasoned.

B.A. shook his head, "Man, you got us out of the cuffs, not the van."

"Fine, I got you out of the cuffs, but Hannibal wouldn't have been able to get us out of the van without getting off the cuffs," Face shut his mouth quickly.

Their leader turned, walking backwards, "Face, you will never know when to shut up, will you?"

Murdock flitted forward through the dense forest, feeling spritely, "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!"

Rolling his eyes, Face looked at B.A. who in turn shrugged.

"You can all relax, we're here," Hannibal pulled back a branch to reveal an old, run down shack.

Murdock ran toward the cabin, "This is great! It's like Little House on the Prairie."

"Except Laura Ingalls Wilder didn't have a lunatic in their midst," Face chuckled to himself.

As Hannibal followed Murdock up the steps he stopped for a moment. He took a deep breath, staring at the door. Everything was so familiar. It was a place that he had cherished for the moments he needed it. B.A. rumbled past him, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," the colonel shook his head. Before he opened the door, he brought out his orders,"We have to debug the place, now."

"Debug?" Face frowned at the musty exterior.

Hannibal opened the door, "This place has been the sight of military forgeries, murders … you name it." He tried to swallow, but he couldn't. _Criminal activity… and other activity. _

"Then look for 'em," Murdock jumped up the steps.

Hannibal ducked into the doorway, "Don't worry, I know where they all are. Now be as quiet as possible."

The four of them disconnected the bugs in record time and gathered back in the foyer. "We may have a few days, a week if we're lucky," Hannibal pulled a cigar from his coat and lit it, "Let's get started."

"We've got activity on the Arden Forest shack. The bugs aren't tracking anything," a man with a deep voice looked around to find his two superiors lingering over him.

"I'll go check it out," the woman, Francesca, pulled back.

The man shook his head, "Whoever is there, is going to be there for awhile. They're going to be stocked."

"Relax, Griffin," Francesca closed her eyes. She hated working with him. He wasn't fit to be a special agent in the CID. "I can handle myself."

Griffin glared at her, "No, Barrett. We wait until dawn tomorrow. We need a team and we don't need to lose you."

"Fine," Francesca gave in, but as she turned away smiled. Her incompetent partner was no match to her expertise. They couldn't wait until dawn to get everything done. He was either a coward or a procrastinator. As soon as she was out of ear shot of Griffin, Francesca sat down beside another girl, "You know the drill."

"Come on," she pushed her glasses up her nose. "You can't be serious."

Francesca shrugged, "You know I'm right."

"I know you're right, but I can't constantly help you," she sighed.

"Yes you can," Francesca stood up again. "And you will. I go out tonight at seven to get to Arden. You better be ready."


	2. Chapter 2: Leader of the Pack

**Thank you for the reviews! I'm so happy you like it. Please keep reading and commenting. I love feedback. **

**And I forgot something: I don't own the A-Team or anything I have not created. **

**Yay!**

**DG**

Francesca Barrett leaned back in the driver's seat. The car was parked behind a large oak tree. Darkness enveloped every crevice her body except for the small part lit up by her cell phone.

"I don't think you understand what you're getting yourself into, Barrett," a woman's light voice echoed from the end of the phone.

"Please, I always know what I'm getting into. I'm good about that," Francesca smirked, pulling her gun off the seat beside her. "You're here. If I need help, you'll know."

The woman sighed, "You're not good about that. All you are concerned about is your scorecard."

"Is that what you think of me?" she chuckled.

Continuing, the woman scolded, "I'm serious. This is the last straw. You think that nothing can hurt you. That's not right. That's… that's impossible."

"Just be listening," Francesca hung up. She brought her leg up to her chest. It was just an old shack, some disconnected bugs. She had done it a million times before, alone. No one had ever been trouble. At least not trouble in Francesca's eyes. And besides, she loved a chance to go there again, craved it. When she entered that place it transformed into a safe haven. Memories would muddle in her brain, keep her from the real goal.

Francesca opened the door quietly, pulling down on her yoga pants. She walked quietly through the forest, gun her hand, ready to shoot. The shack came up ahead.

On the second floor, one room was lit up by candles. She could see a silhouette of a tall figure. Francesca went forward to the front door, letting it swing open. Voices echoed down into the front rooms of the cabin. All male.

Swallowing, Francesca brought her gun out in front of her, ready to shoot if she needed to. She went toward the staircase. Her feet couldn't be quiet enough to stop the stairs from creaking. As she went up the steps, she whispered into the small microphone on her shirt, "I'm going to need back up."

No response.

"Nole," she whispered.

No response.

Francesca shook her head, going up farther. She knew every twist and turn of this place. It was easy to get out, no matter what position she was in. The door to the lit up room was open slightly. She was ready.

Francesca pushed the door open with her foot and held her gun out, finger ready to pull the trigger. And then she saw him. Hannibal Smith standing over by the window with a cigar propped between his fingers.

"Oh, Christ," she shaded her eyes and shot before drawing back to the stairwell.

B.A. cracked his knuckles, "Hell, no."

Face picked up the small shotgun he had been spinning across the table. While the two of them went after her, Hannibal's mouth fell open as he stared at the door. Shots rang out below them and growls of defense.

He looked to Murdock, "Don't say anything."

"Hey, I'm crazy but I can keep a secret," Murdock chirped, leaning in his chair.

Hannibal jumped into the hallway hearing the girl screech, "Get your hands off of me!"

"Put the gun down," Face twisted her wrist.

"She's wearing a wire," Hannibal stepped down toward her.

B.A.'s gaze shifted to the girl's shirt. He pulled it up to reveal the wire and a purple, red scar on her abdomen. Francesca dropped the gun, "So, Colonel Smith, we meet again."

"Fra-Agent Barrett-" he nodded.

"_Special_ Agent Barrett, thank you very much," Francesca glared up at him.

Face pushed her back as she struggled, "You know her?"

"Hey!" Francesca shouted at B.A. who was trying to remove the wire. "Watch where you put your hands, buddy." She reached around to her back and removed the small device. B.A. yanked it from her neck and crushed it in his hand. "See how much easier everything is when we work together?"

Hannibal was still letting it all sink in. Francesca looked no different than he had left her five years before. Her golden brown hair still cascaded down in a tight ponytail and her gray blue eyes widened as he stared at her. "We have to get out of here."

"Let me just…" he looked to the gun and back at the girl.

"Woah," she laughed. "You can't be serious."

Pushing Face away from her, Hannibal took the gun, "He's not."

For a moment, Francesca just watched the man. A smile crossed her face, "Don't even-" She threw one punch, striking B.A. across the jaw and lifted her leg about to strike. Hannibal reached out, the side of her leg resting in his palms.

"You should think of something better than that, Barrett."

Her eyes narrowed, "Oh, stuff it, Smith."

Face held up the gun again, "This gun looks better and better."

"No," Hannibal pursed his lips. "You're not going to hit me, are you?"

B.A. had recovered from the throttling and shook her back to the wall again. As she was pulled back, Francesca finally locked eyes with him, "Why _wouldn't_ I?"

It took a moment for Hannibal to take those words in. She didn't care if she hurt him. Either Francesca wanted revenge, or she didn't believe that the past had really existed. She didn't want to believe in the past.

"How do you know each other?" Face held her back.

"Oh, we have a mutual friend," she replied, smiling sardonically at Hannibal. "And we've met a few times. Here and there. Of course, most of those run-ins have been less than pleasant."

Face shook his head, "Look we don't have all day. Let's just leave her here and-"

"We can't just leave her here, it's too dangerous," Hannibal went toward the front door.

Murdock finally came down the stairs, "A blue SUV just pulled up outside."

"Blue?" Francesca cocked her head to the side.

"Your people?" B.A. went toward the window.

She looked down, "Why would my people be driving in a blue car?"

Shots rang out, breaking a window here and there. Hannibal looked toward the back door and then to Francesca, "Where's your car?"

"How do you know I drove a car?" she ducked as Face pulled her down. "Maybe I skydived to get here. Or I could've-"

Hannibal pulled a pistol from his coat, shooting out the window, "Don't get smart with me."

"Since when do you have power over me?" she fished a key chain from her pocket.

Walking back to her, Hannibal removed his belt and jerked her hands to her back, "Since you became my captive."


	3. Chapter 3: The Way You Look Tonight

"Go out the back door," Hannibal said in the panic of shooting. "Face, make sure she doesn't go anywhere." He pulled Francesca toward the lieutenant.

She tripped in the exchange, "You could stand to be a bit more careful."

"Careful isn't in our vocabulary," Murdock shot out the door.

Francesca looked down at her feet as she was pushed out. They made there way toward her car a little farther through the forest. "Where are we going?" B.A. looked to Hannibal, frowning.

Face forced her into the back seat, making sure she couldn't pull anything. Murdock hopped in next to him, "This is a really nice car."

"Why thank you," Francesca smiled.

He nodded, "So, where to?"

Hannibal stuck the keys into the ignition, "Anywhere but here."

"It seems to me I've heard that statement before," she shifted uncomfortably.

He rolled his eyes and drove out as the gun shots came closer. B.A. rolled down the window to shoot at the unknown visitor.

"Hey, I think we could stand to do a little research on this," Face pushed the girl a bit closer to the door.

She growled back, "Take it easy on me. I'm new at this whole _captive _thing." There was venom behind the word captive, directed toward Hannibal. He found a road leading to a highway and drove through the night.

Francesca's ankles had been bound so she couldn't move whatsoever. Relaxing, she plotted her moves carefully. She wouldn't put up a fight. Not yet. Maybe Hannibal would believe she had a soft spot for him and he'd trust her. But then she'd snap. She had only gotten this far in her thoughts when she drifted off into a tumultuous sleep.

_Flashback- Big Wedding. And We Laughed Pt. 1_

It all began with a wedding.

Thomas Barrett, or as he was called, Tommy, had prepared himself for this day for years. And now it had come. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch and he and his new wife were enjoying the reception. Unfortunately, a few guests weren't. Two in particular.

One was the one and only Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith. He wouldn't have even been there if he hadn't promised Tommy. Of course, he wouldn't break a promise, especially to a young man who had given his life to the military.

Tommy kicked his feet around, coming up to Hannibal, "Having fun?"

"If it makes you feel better, yes," Hannibal chuckled.

"Oh, you're just not trying," Tommy held up his glass of wine.

Frowning, the colonel crossed his arms, "What am I supposed to be trying to do?"

"How long has it been since you've gotten a little action?"

The colonel shook his head, "I don't think this is particularly appropriate."

"Too long ago, right?" Tommy sipped his glass.

"You know it's about my work, nothing else," Hannibal smirked.

The other was Tommy's younger sister, Francesca. Francesca didn't enjoy a lot of big, family functions. In fact, she hated them. Everyone was buzzing about just as she sipped a cocktail, wishing for a cigarette.

Tommy looked over at his sister, who was sitting by the big glass windows, staring at the snow that flitted down from the clouds. He stepped away from his bride for a moment and went to Francesca, "Hey, Checka."

She gazed at her brother, "Major Barrett, how're you doing?"

"I'd be doing better if my baby sister was having a bit of fun," he pouted.

Francesca laughed and stood up, "You know I hate this kind of stuff. And there are no hot, single guys here. You'd think Mel would have a hot brother or something."

Tommy pushed her forward, "Come on, Barrett. If you can kill a man with your bare hands, you can find a little bit of fun at a wedding."

"Two completely different things," she shook her head. Taking both of his hands, she explained, "Killing a man _is _how I have fun. That's why I'm not a happy person. I don't get to do it often."

Her brother smiled, "Fine, but no one dies tonight."

Francesca returned the smile, "Alright, Tom-Tom. No one…tonight."

"What about a dance?" Tommy pulled her onto the dance floor.

She spun away for a moment, "Oh, you know I'm not very good."

"Who was the one who wouldn't stop until she taught me 'shuffle off to buffalo'?"

When he said this, Francesca turned out on the floor and whispered, "Step, shuffle, hop, step."

"This is why I love you," Tommy hugged her. "Beneath all the harshness, there's a heart of gold."

She accepted the hug, "I'm not that harsh, am I?"

Tommy pulled away and smiled, "No. No, you're not."

They walked off the dance floor. Francesca sighed, "I'm going to freshen up a bit."

"Okay," he nodded.

Francesca turned around a bit too quickly and ended up running into a tall, stooping figure, "Oh god, sorry…"

"It's not a problem," Hannibal looked down at her with big, sullen eyes.

Tommy put his hand on her shoulder, "Francesca this is Colonel Smith. Hannibal Smith."

The girl blushed, "I know that."

"This is my younger sister, Francesca Barrett," Tommy patted her back.

Francesca cleared her throat, "Agent Barrett."

"I see," Hannibal nodded.

"Tommy," a tinkling feminine voice came up behind them. "I've been looking for you."

Tommy stepped away from the two, "Got to go, duty calls."

His wife, Mel, grabbed his arm, "Sorry to take him away."

"No, you go ahead," Francesca cocked her head to the side, still looking at the colonel. As her brother walked away, she stared up at Hannibal, "He's no fun anymore."

Hannibal chuckled, "Oh, I don't know. If that's his _duty_…"

"Well, Tommy is a very passionate guy. His duty changes with the season," her voice lulled.

"I suppose the military runs in the family," he smiled slowly.

Leaning into her hip, Francesca brightened her tone, "I suppose. He always wanted to be a soldier. So I wanted to as well."

"But you didn't choose a combat position because…"

She shrugged, "I always told myself if I couldn't be in Special Forces, I wanted to do something fun. I'm an adrenaline junkie, you know."

"Being a fighter like Tommy, I'm sure the CID was more than welcoming," Hannibal said.

"Definitely not," she replied in amusement. The music quickly shifted from an upbeat number to a slower piece. "I love this song," her eyes darted over to the musicians.

The colonel smiled, "Now I'm the bad guy if I don't ask you to dance."

"You'd never be the bad guy. Not Hannibal Smith," Francesca shook her head.

Hannibal quietly said, "Well, would you like the dance?"

Francesca accepted the hand he held out to her, "It would be an honor, sir."

"You don't have to be so formal," he pulled her back.

Resting her other hand on his shoulder, Francesca tossed her hair out of her eyes and smiled, "Hannibal. I'm going to have to get used to that."

"No," he shook his head. "John."

"_I get no kick from champagne…_" the female singer drawled into the microphone.

Francesca sang along, dancing to the beat, "_Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all, so tell me why should it be true that I get a kick out of you?_"

As the dance continued, Hannibal watched her blue eyes light up. He tried to keep up with her, but her energy was too much for him.

"You're a very nice dance partner," Francesca rested for a moment during a music break.

He shook his head, "Please, I am lucky that you practically begged me to dance with you."

"Beg is _not _the right word," she looked down at their feet, leaning her head against his chest.

"Fine," Hannibal, subconsciously, pulled Francesca tighter around the waist.

Francesca felt his grasp and pursed her lips, resisting a smile. "_I get no kick in a plane, flying too high with some guy in the sky…" _Her voice drifted, staring back up at the colonel, "_Is my idea of nothing to do…_"

She stopped, "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Hannibal drew back. The only thing he could hear was a loud, throaty laughed from an old man.

Francesca jumped up, "Uncle Walt. Wait right here. I'll be back."

Hannibal watched her scamper away. She had the same golden brown hair as her brother, yet her mentality was completely different. Somewhat more courageous and outgoing, but she was still fragile. She approached an older man and gave him a hug. As Francesca flirted with him, she pulled a cigarette from his sport coat.

Breaking into his thoughts, Francesca tugged on his arm, "Do you have a light?" She held up the cigarette.

"You don't?" he reached into his coat, searching for his box of matches.

Francesca pushed his hand down, "Not in here! If Tommy caught me, he'd kill me."

"You're not a child," Hannibal couldn't hold back a smile.

"But Tommy treats me like one," she took his hand in hers and pulled him outside into a large courtyard. "Alright, light."

He struck a match and held it up to the cigarette. "Thanks," Francesca took a long drag on the cigarette. "I've been deprived of these for a week. An entire week."

"You poor, poor girl."

"Yes," she puffed smoke into his face. "Poor me."

It had taken a moment for the colonel to realize that it was snowing. A light fluffy coating of ice lay across the garden. Then he realized that Francesca was completely unprepared for the weather. She was wearing a light pink, chiffon dress, rouched at the bodice, and the skirt was perfect for spinning endlessly through a field of daisies.

"Aren't you cold?" he inquired.

Francesca looked up, "Well, now that you mention it."

Hannibal slipped of his beat up sport coat and put it around her shoulders.

"And I thought chivalry was dead," Francesca smiled, feeling the warmth of the coat around her like a hug. "So how did you end up here, first stop on the highway to hell?"

He laughed, "You don't want to be here either?"

They started to walk through the garden, "I hate weddings. Everyone's always so happy and so… It seems like everything is perfect. For everyone, except me."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"You don't seem to be having a blast either, so tell me. Why do you hate weddings?"

Hannibal sighed, "I think it's the thought that a person is giving up some part of themselves to be with this person."

Francesca bit her lip, "So it's the commitment thing. It secretly scares you."

"I'm not done," he said. "It's not the commitment _thing. _It's losing your identity."

She stopped walking, "An identity crisis scares you then."

"It doesn't scare me," Hannibal shook his head. "It sort of hurts me."

"It's empathy," Francesca threw her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out.

Hannibal stood in front of her, sort of confused. He had just revealed a small part of himself that he hadn't ever revealed to anyone else. Francesca drew the information from him without. And he couldn't tell if she was doing it on purpose or if that was her nature.

She stared straight ahead, a sly grin crossing her face, "Let's get out of here."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere but here."

_End Flashback_

Hannibal looked in the rear view mirror and watched Francesca. He still couldn't grasp the fact that she was there. She was there and she was thirsty for blood.

"Hannibal," Face sat up. "Hannibal, I see them."

Stepping on the gas, Hannibal concentrated on the road, "Team, get ready."

The jolt of energy in the car awoke Francesca. She felt the small lights dawn filter into her eyes, burning. "What's going on?" She looked back, "God, you couldn't lose them?"

"Hey, when you're the driver you can do whatever the hell you please," the colonel snapped.

Francesca leaned forward, "Oh, you're so bad, putting me in my place."

"Do you have any duct tape, Murdock?" Face turned to his seat mate.

Murdock sighed, "Fresh out."

"Damn, because I wanted to get these two to shut up."

Turning to Face, Francesca said, "You want me to shut you up?"

"Tough guy line. I'm scared!" Face laughed.

"Get the captive in line, Face," B.A. cackled.

"These two act like an old married couple. Sounds like there's a little history," Murdock chirped.

As Face forced the girl back she shook her head, "That's insane."

"Yeah, Murdock," Hannibal's eyes met Murdock's in the mirror. "That is _insane._"

**Author's note: I hope you're liking the story**. **Congrats on your second flashback! Next chapter, get ready for a bit more action and possibly finishing the second flashback. Please keeping reading and reviewing!**


	4. Chapter 4: Kiss Me

Francesca leaned watched the blue car speed up behind them. "Great. We are officially screwed."

No one replied as Hannibal's eyes focused on the stretch of road in front of him.

"Hannibal," Face moved forward. "We're almost out of gas."

"Ha!" Francesca laughed. "I stand corrected. _You're _screwed. You are all screwed."

B.A. harrumphed, "I really don't like her."

"Touché," she twisted her hands from their sleeplike state.

Veering off the road, Hannibal growled, "You know they're after you too. They aren't from the government."

She shook her head, "You don't know that."

The car bobbled down the terrain and right into a parking lot of a gas station. "Murdock, you got two minutes."

"I'll do my duty," Murdock pulled down his baseball cap and jumped out of the car.

Francesca bit on her knuckle. Her cell phone began to ring. She shot up, "Oh my God."

"Looks like we missed something," Face shoved his hand in her front pocket.

"Wait, no," her voice quivered. "Please, just let me answer it."

He scoffed, looking at the contact, "Now, why the hell would I do that?"

"Please," Francesca made it sound like it was vital to answer the phone. "I need to…"

It stopped ringing.

Hannibal closed his eyes, dropping his head.

"Just let me listen to the message," her eyes darted over to Hannibal.

Face began to shake his head, "No-"

"Play the message, Face," the colonel looked up.

Everyone was quiet, watching Hannibal. Face finally spoke, "Fine." He pressed the button.

"_Message received at 6:12 today,_" the fake voice said. Then, another woman's tired voice got on the line, "Hi, Francesca. It's Mel. Tommy lapsed into a coma this morning. And I need help. So… call me."

The color from Francesca's face drained. "Thanks," she whispered.

_Flashback-Kiss Me Pt. 2_

Francesca and Hannibal ended up on a park bench about twenty minutes away from the wedding. They were safe from the jovial activities and the white decorations.

"You're close with your brother it take it?" Hannibal watched Francesca blow bubbles from a bubble wand.

She smiled, "Yeah. Yeah we are really close. He was the man of the house since I was seven and my mom had to work a lot. So he took care of me. I can't thank him enough for that."

Hannibal looked back down into his lap, "Did your dad die?"

"Tommy hasn't told you much about himself, has he?" Francesca laughed and then paused. "He didn't die… he left," she sighed. "It was strange. I didn't expect it, but I _was_ only seven."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," she replied. "Come on," Francesca sat up. "Let's talk about happy things. There's life, laughter, love…"

Hannibal shook his head, "Love.

She crossed her legs, "What's your problem with love?"

"I…" he thoughtfully said for a moment. "I don't like to think about it. I never really tried."

Francesca bit her lip, "Neither have I."

"It's too much. Sometimes you have to think what your priorities are."

They were both silent for a long time, staring straight into the dark. Francesca got up, "Maybe we could not try together."

"What do you mean by that?" Hannibal stood up in front of her.

She shrugged, "Well, I'm alone. You're alone. We could not be alone for a night or two, couldn't we?"

"If I understand you correctly…"

Francesca cut him off, "I think you understand perfectly."

Hannibal liked the idea. He liked the idea of no commit, just a fling. "Alright then."

"I'm glad we agree," Francesca whispered, resting her hand on his chest.

They took a moment. Their breath was synchronized. She rose on her tiptoes, "Just one of those things."

Closing her eyes, she waited patiently. It was a lot to handle. She wasn't normally very outgoing with men. But she was lonesome and she just wanted a friend.

Hannibal brushed a small wisp of hair away from her face, grinning to himself. It had been awhile, a very long time. He kissed her softly, tilting her chin upward with his rough fingers.

Francesca smiled and slid her hand up to the back of his head. As she pulled away, she felt blissful. She tugged on his hand, walking the way they came, "Come with me."

_End Flashback_

Hannibal was left confused as he listened to the message. He knew that Tommy had left the army because he found out about his Leukemia. And now he also knew Tommy was a step away from death.

Murdock hopped into the car, wondering about the sudden stillness, "I think we should-''

The blue car showed up. Hannibal drove forward as fast as he could. Francesca jolted forward, still white from grief. Face and B.A. looked at each other, exchanging odd expressions.

Hannibal had pushed forward toward a fairly barren landscape as the gunshots came closer. The back windshield shattered and the three in the back pushed up against the front seats.

"Jesus," Face muttered.

Murdock let out a little 'woo-hoo' and pulled the gun out of his friend's hand. "This'll show them, huh?"

Face simply nodded, "Show 'em, Murdock."

Although Francesca was boiling on the inside, she felt the belt loosen as she twisted her wrists. The belt fell and she smiled. "Hey, lieutenant."

Hannibal looked in the mirror to see her hands rising, "Face, don't!"

Face glanced over at her just as she hit him upside the head. As he recovered, she pushed him into Murdock. The gun fell from his hand. Francesca took it and wrapped her hand around B.A.'s mouth. He tried to raise his own gun, but she pressed the barrel of hers against his temple, "Hand over the gun, and no one gets hurt."

Confused, B.A. put it in her other palm. Francesca held it back to the other two.

"Okay," she growled. "You're going to do as I say. Kapeesh?"

"Kapeesh?" Face laughed. "What the hell-"

He heard the trigger pull back a bit and went silent. Francesca smiled, "I'm going to drive. Okay?"

"No, what're-" B.A. began.

Hannibal cut him off, "What else?"

She looked to him, "You're going to get in the passenger seat. No one's going to pull anything, and no one is going to complain." The car came to a sudden halt. Francesca came out of the car and walked over to meet Hannibal. As he rose over her, she crossed her arms, "For once I'm winning."

"If that's what you call it," he went around to the passenger side.

They both slid in. The blue car had come into view again. Hannibal watched Francesca put the car into gear. She started driving forward, took a sharp turn and looped around the blue car. Hannibal got a good look at a blonde haired man in the front seat.

B.A. and Face marveled at the strange relationship between them and Murdock laughed hardily.

**More to come in the next chapters! What are you thinking? I hope you like it!**


	5. Chapter 5: Thank You For Being a Friend

Francesca had lost the blue car and winded through a residential community called "Southbrook", but she knew they weren't far behind. She couldn't think of the next part of the plan. If she went back to headquarters, the car would surely find them and jeopardize her station, not to mention the security of the armed forces.

So she decided there was only one thing to do besides kill them. She was going to use them. For what, she didn't know yet.

"Do you have a plan, Francesca?" Hannibal glared over at her.

"Just because you're so…" she had trouble finding the right word. "So annoyingly organized doesn't mean that being perfectly disorganized is the wrong way to operate."

He shook his head, "I don't think you've noticed that being 'annoyingly organized' actually works."

Francesca narrowed her eyes and pulled up to a deserted house.

"I didn't think you would live in _Soutbhbrook_," Face rolled his eyes.

"I don't," she tapped her upper lip. "Now who do I want to go inside?"

Murdock raised his hand, "I'll go."

"Good, I like volunteers," she turned back and pulled a key from her pocket. "You're going to go inside, find the kitchen and there should be a row of keys hanging from the wall. Take the third one."

Murdock jumped out of the car in excitement. Sighing, Francesca stared ahead of her.

"Who lives here if you don't?" B.A. speculated.

Francesca shrugged, "Sarah Brown." She was a bit surprised that none of them had sprung on her yet. Hannibal seemed to have a hold on them and it was just fine with her. She'd be ready to get them.

"You're not a very good liar," Hannibal leaned back. "Sarah Brown is the name of that girl in _Guys and Dolls_. And it's a man's house, the yard isn't looked after and there are blinds, not curtains."

"Wow, you're good," Francesca pulled the two guns closer to her.

Hannibal frowned, "What's his name?"

"Does it really matter? Why do I owe you an answer?"

_Flashback-Stay With Me Pt. 3_

Francesca rested her head on Hannibal's chest. She breathed out slowly, "Do you know what time it is?"

Hannibal turned his head to the side and smiled, "Five thirty."

"Wow…" she whistled. "I think sleep would definitely be appropriate right now."

Before he could reply, her cell phone buzzed. Francesca cursed, rising out of the bed and picking her clutch off the ground, "Tom-tom, how's it going?"

"Did you fall into a black hole or something?" he asked in an urgent tone.

"Why are you busy calling me when you should be attending to your," she paused changing her tone elegantly. "Your blushing bride."

Hannibal sat up a bit to watch her wrap herself in a blanket.

"Who'd you take home?" Tommy scoffed.

"Now why would I tell you?"

"Please tell me it was Hannibal," he cringed. "You and- and him. That's so weird."

Laughing, she met the colonel's gaze, "Don't be silly! He's too old for me and most definitely would be able to keep up." She winked, "Besides, he's a bore."

"Good," Tommy relaxed. "You scared me. He disappeared too."

"Maybe he hates weddings too," Francesca shrugged and then turned off the phone.

Hannibal cocked his head, "I'm old and a bore."

"Don't forget you can't keep up," she pointed, falling back onto the bed.

He smirked, "But I could tell you were lying."

"Tommy couldn't tell. That's all that matters," Francesca crawled up toward him. She kissed his neck and ran her hands up his sides.

Touching her back, Hannibal pulled her down, "You're a _terrible _liar."

She giggled, "We've established that." She rolled to her side of the bed.

"I never said there were," he craned his neck toward her. "I was just making an observation."

Hannibal kissed her deeply and then leaned back. Francesca closed her eyes and rolled onto her side. "This was fun."

"Yeah, I'm glad we did this," he brushed her side gently.

"How long do you have until you have to go back?"

"Back…" Hannibal folded his hands. "Two more days. I leave in two more days."

Bending her legs up to her chest, Francesca grinned, "Good. We have a bit more time to relax."

"It's fun because there's no-"

"Strings attached, I know," she turned her head to look at him. "It's like a very long one night stand. I like it."

Hannibal was about to speak when he realized Francesca had fallen asleep. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. It had been a long time since he had been in a situation like this. A woman asleep in his arms. And even if it wasn't love it was nice to feel her heart beat.

Waking, Francesca drifted out of her sleep and felt the breath on her neck. She put her hand on his and entwined her fingers in his. She liked Hannibal. He was intellectual, kind, and charming. Francesca was flattered that he had accepted her offer. It made her feel special, entitled to something. An astute colonel sleeping next to her, and not just so she could kiss and tell.

_End Flashback_

"You don't owe me an answer," Hannibal mumbled.

"I don't think I owe _you _anything," Francesca replied gravely. She kept pulling back on the trigger and letting it go before it would shoot. It gave her a thrill and it let out all her anger.

Murdock came back into the car and held out the keys. Face immediately reached for them, "Hey, let's do some bargaining."

"Drive," the colonel looked over at Francesca, his eyes burning.

"What?"

He jerked his head back. Everyone stared at the blue car as it rear ended them and gun shots rang out. "Oh, well this is great. This is f-" Francesca began.

"Drive!" Hannibal shouted at her.

She hit the gas and took a sharp turn, running over the poorly trimmed bushes. Then, she stopped and let the car hit the driver's side.

"What the hell are you doing?" B.A. burrowed back into Face.

"I know what I'm doing. I know exactly what I'm doing," the car shot forward. Francesca shook her hair from her face and skipped the curb and ran through a fence.

Hannibal grimaced, "You were always a bad driver."

"Shut up!" her gun went of, shooting through the leather of her seat. "Just shut up, Hannibal! I don't care what you think, not anymore. You just need to shut-"

Leaning forward, Face bit his lip, "I hate to break it to you, but that's a lake."

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious that's a lake."

Francesca stopped the car, "I'm not blind. Everyone be quiet. I know exactly what I'm doing." She turned back, passing the blue car and then back to the lake. "Everyone stay calm. Don't make any sudden movements or this is going to get screwed up."

"What is she doing?" Face turned to Hannibal.

"Do not ask me."

She slammed on the gas and the speed rocketed. It went to seventy, to eighty. And then the others realized it. Francesca was going to drive them right into the lake and there was nothing to do to stop her. Murdock was actually quite excited by the idea of what could happen.

"I'm having second thoughts," she kept driving, the speed increasing. "Tell me it's going to be okay."

"I don't know what the hell you're doing," Hannibal tensed, trying to shrink into his seat.

Francesca smiled, "That makes me feel better." The tires left the ground and the car shot off into the lake.

B.A. and Face flinched together, but the car didn't sink. It skipped. Like a rock. Right across the manmade lake the car almost drove across the water. It was an incredible feeling.

Francesca was right. Unfortunately when the car hit solid ground again, the front collided head on with the ground.

Coughing, Hannibal reached for the door, "How did you know that would work?"

"I saw it on _Mythbusters_," she tumbled out of the car.

**Thanks for all the reviews! It makes me want to write more quickly, but with the school year swiftly approaching I worry about my deadlines. I'll try to keep up. **

**By the way, they did actually prove that a car can skip across water like a rock, so I wasn't lying. **

**Look forward to less car driving in the next chapter. **

**-DG**


	6. Chapter 6: Hold Onto the Nights

**We're venturing out of the car! Yay! I hope you guys like the new chapter. I'm going back to school, so chapters might not come as quickly, but keep reading. **

**DG**

Francesca walked out and kicked open the trunk. She revealed a surplus of weapons. Gesturing toward them, she breathed out, "Be my guest."

The four men came toward her. Face frowned, "Are you pulling something?"

"Yes I'm going to get the grenade out of my pocket and throw it at you," she shook her head. "Oh wait! I don't have a grenade. Or a pocket for that matter. You guys are on your own."

Hannibal grasped her arm and growled, "No, you're coming with us."

A collective 'what' came from the others.

"You're coming with us," he repeated.

"Why?" she laughed.

Hannibal met her eyes, "Because that is the key to somewhere safe. That is the key that could save us."

"I'm not trying to save you, Hannibal. I am trying to ruin you," Francesca managed to sputter.

He closed his eyes and took a machine gun from the back, "I'm sorry to hear that." Hannibal let go and looked back at his men, "Let's move."

Francesca sighed, "Wait." They watched her come forward. "I'll go with you."

"What is this?" B.A. turned to complain to Murdock.

"But not to help you. Not for any of you. For… for Tommy. Tommy would want me to help you." Francesca pushed through and held her gun up, shooting. "What are we waiting for?"

As she walked off, Face pulled on the colonel's sleeve, "How do you know what she's doing?"

"I know her, I really do."

"You've met her a couple times and you know everything about her?"

Hannibal began to follow, "Because when she talks about Tommy, she's not joking."

_Flashback-Do You Want To Know A Secret?_

"Hey, the boss is here," B.A. announced as Hannibal entered the tent.

Hannibal dropped his bag on the ground and pulled a cigar out of his pocket, "It's good to be back."

"How was the wedding?" Face put his feet up on the table.

"Eh, fine," Hannibal sat down at the table, lighting his cigar.

Face laughed, "Come on, there must have been something…"

"Just because you find a girl to sleep with at every party you go to, doesn't mean I do," he puffed smoke out at Face. "Life is business."

"Hey!" he replied in a defensive tone.

Grinning, Hannibal looked over at Murdock, "Now what're you up to, Captain?"

"Nothin'," Murdock glanced up with bright eyes, smiling. "You look happy."

The colonel smirked, "I'm with my team, how could I not be?"

B.A. rolled his eyes, "You never try to have any fun."

"It's about the boys. That's all," Hannibal pushed Face's feet off the table to put up his own.

A rustling sound came from the front of the tent. They turned to see Murdock rummaging through Hannibal's bag.

"Good boy, Murdock!" Face cheered.

Murdock picked up a dress shirt and looked at the collar closely. "Candy apple red lipstick and the scent of… lilac. Wanna tell us something?"

Hannibal sighed, "Would you believe that I'm a cross dresser?"

"No! No we wouldn't because you met someone," Face jumped up, laughing. "And you slept with her."

"Now, wait a second, you don't know I slept with anyone," Hannibal sat up a bit.

Murdock said in a sing song voice, "Yes we do." He held up a small piece of paper and handed it to the colonel.

Staring at the paper, Hannibal read it silently.

_Thanks for a lovely time. _

_ -A Friend_

And to top it all off there was a bright red lip print on the side. A bright red, puckered lip print.

"Candy apple red…" the three chanted.

"Shut up," he carefully folded the note and shoved it in his pocket.

The lieutenant stood up and pretended to toss his hair back, "Colonel Smith aren't you being a bit forward?"

Murdock shot up and deepened his voice, "I love it when a plan comes together."

"First of all," Hannibal grimaced while B.A. laughed furiously in the corner. "That wasn't what happened. And second that made no sense whatsoever."

B.A., still laughing, pointed out, "But you admit that you slept with a woman."

"Of a young age," Murdock added.

Hannibal closed his eyes, "What would tell you she was young?"

"Was she?" Face crossed his arms.

Hannibal choked back his words.

"Robbing the cradle, are we now?" B.A. leaned forward with interest.

Silencing himself, Hannibal didn't reply. He didn't even look up. He was thinking about everything that had happened in the past couple days. It wasn't anything to tell.

"What'd she look like?" Murdock clucked.

"Stop it, just stop."

"Was it a _lady of the night_?" Face added with a flashy smile.

"Face! For God's sake everyone lay off," Hannibal slammed his hands down on the table. "It's none of your business."

_End Flashback_

The five of them walked forward through trees, finding refuge. Francesca could see an opening of tree coverage and went quickly toward it. They followed her and came into a large meadow. She closed her eyes, feeling the small seconds of peace filter through herself.

"What're you standing around for?" Face sneered at her walking into the meadow.

Francesca didn't reply, but kept walking with her arms crossed and watching the ground. Hannibal came up to her, "Are you okay?"

She was have tempted to respond with '_Do I look okay?_' but instead she kept walking, lifting her head, "Fine. I'm fine."

"Are you-" he began.

"Don't pretend that you care about me, Hannibal," Francesca looked up at him, holding her breath.

Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't have to pretend."

"I think what you've done in the past gives me reason not to believe you," she continued quietly so the others wouldn't hear.

Hannibal stopped, "You hold such a grudge."

"Well when-" Francesca froze, staring straight ahead. "Did you see that?"

"What?"

"There-" she pointed toward the trees across the meadow, but couldn't speak anymore as gunshot echoed through the empty air.

Face shouted in pain and fell onto the ground.

Hannibal and Francesca went forward to him quickly. His eyes were still wide and he was breathing deeply, "Holy…"

"What the hell just happened?" Hannibal held his head. Murdock and B.A. went forward to find the gunmen.

"It's his thigh, it's not too bad," Francesca touched the wound and pressed down to draw blood.

Face shot up, feeling her hand, "What are you trying to do?"

"Relax," she said calmly. "We're going to have to get him inside somewhere."

Hannibal swallowed, "What're you planning on doing?"

"Yes, what is she planning on doing?" Face sat up, growling at Francesca.

"If you don't trust me you might bleed to death. Unless any of you know how to remove a bullet from a gushing wound, huh?" she wiped her hands on her pants.

Face bit his lip, "To much information."

"Come on," Francesca supported his side as he stood up. "What are they doing?"

They heard a yelp from the woods. Hannibal moved quickly to find a man sprawled out across the ground with B.A. and Murdock standing over him, "Good work, boys."

"Can we get out of here?" Face put his hand on his leg.

Francesca pulled at her cotton shirt and then yanked it down, ripping the fabric. She bent down and tied it around Face's wound. Her undershirt was thin, and she breathed out heavily, trying to tighten the fabric, "We have to go. This doesn't look good."


	7. Chapter 7: What I Did For Love

**I'm so sorry I've taken so long to update! But I've been so busy this last week or two. I'll try to crank out so more chapters. And writer's block never helps. So, here you go, the latest installment. Keep reading and reviewing!**

**DG**

Francesca paid the motel in cash and hoped they couldn't see Face limping outside the window. She turned to Hannibal and a fake smile spread across her face, "Honey, could you go get the bags from the car?"

It wasn't too much of a lie. It was a small one in fact. They did have bags. Just not a car. One bag was filled with gauze and bandages and other random things Murdock had thrown into his basket when he had ten minutes to shop.

The other had two bottles of alcohol. Whisky and vodka. Francesca was clear in her instructions. Face needed whisky, she need vodka.

Hannibal went out the office door and followed his team toward an empty wall.

"You okay, Lieutenant?" he looked at the coat covering Face's wound as to not draw suspicion.

"No. No I'm actually not," Face's eyes were wide. Maybe he thought the wider his eyes could open the less pain he'd be in. But alas, no such luck.

Francesca came out of the office and went toward the men. She didn't make eye contact, didn't speak. She led them farther down the row of doors and up some stairs. Face cursed the whole way up, even though he was practically carried by B.A.

Opening the door, Francesca breathed out. "Alright. How's that leg?"

"How do you think?" Face collapsed on the bed and grazed his hand across the blood.

"The blood doesn't look like it's clotting," she sat down.

Hannibal lingered over her, "We can't take him to a hospital."

"I know," she opened the bag in his arm and pulled out the bottle of vodka.

As she opened it, Hannibal went to the bathroom, "You want a cup?"

She smirked, "A cup?" Francesca put the bottle to her lips and knocked back some of the alcohol. She let out a sigh of relief, trudging into the bathroom and taking all the towels she could find.

"What is she doing?" Face growled.

"Calm down, Facey," Murdock rested on the bed with Face.

Hannibal went into the bathroom after her. Francesca was perched on the side of the bathtub, cutting a towel with a small knife. "Where'd you get that?"

"None of your business," she flashed a counterfeit smile.

Kicking the door half closed, Hannibal went further into the bathroom, "Francesca…"

"_Special Agent _Barrett, yes?" the towel fell into two halves.

"I am not calling you _Special Agent Barrett _so you can just forget about that," he rolled his eyes.

She stood up and held the knife at her side, "You're so stubborn. You always were."

_Flashback-Trouble_

Hannibal sat down at the long conference table and sighed. He didn't know why he was here. It was just a meeting, some Special Forces people, government people, people people.

Tommy sat next to him, "Hello, Hannibal."

"Where have you been? Enjoying the married life?" Hannibal smirked.

"Yeah, Mel's been really moody lately, from what I've heard," Tommy shook his head.

Without hesitation, Hannibal asked, "How's your sister?"

"Why don't you ask her for yourself?" Tommy smiled and looked toward the door.

Hannibal saw Francesca coming through the door. His reaction was a mix of shock and happiness. She seemed preoccupied with the documents in her hand and was trailing a taller woman with red hair. "She looks very busy," Hannibal speculated.

"She's been working her ass off for a promotion. She'll notice us sooner or later," Tommy leaned on the table.

"Let's get started," the redheaded woman went to the head of the table.

Francesca sat down right across from Tommy and Hannibal. She was wearing a white Oxford shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt. Hannibal noted her stiff posture and almost rigid facial expression. Finally, she looked up to meet Hannibal's eyes. She froze.

"Hi," she whispered, smiling meekly. Then she looked over to her brother, "I have to talk to you.

"Agent Barrett," the women crossed her arms. "Is there a problem?"

Francesca expression became stone again, "No, no problem."

"Okay, anyways," the woman went on, but the three of them continued there silent banter.

Tommy frowned, "Why?"

She shook her head, "Nothing bad."

"Why?" he pushed.

Francesca simply turned her head to ignore her brother. Tommy resorted to childhood antics, kicking her under the table.

"Fu-" Francesca choked back.

"Agent Barret, what's going on?" the redhead turned back.

Francesca's leg throbbed as she tried to think of a cover story. She turned to the man beside her, "Griffin, be quiet."

"I didn't say anything!" the man said defensively

"I don't care. Just be quiet," the woman pointed out.

The meeting continued. Hannibal's mind kept drifting from the meeting to Francesca. Her eyes kept meeting his. They were narrow, they smiled at him. When he heard the words 'break for lunch' he shot out of the room.

Francesca came out slowly and met him, "Colonel Smith. I'm surprised to see you here."

"The feeling his mutual," he smiled.

Tommy rushed out, "Francesca, what's going on?"

"Nothing bad! Let's go to lunch, okay?"

"No, come on!" Tommy was frantic.

Francesca rolled her eyes, "Mel wants to talk to you."

"What's wrong with Mel?" his eyes were wild.

Hannibal couldn't help but smile at Francesca's supremely calm exterior, "Nothing is wrong, you big dope! Go call her. We'll meet you in the restaurant downstairs."

Tommy shook his head, "Jesus, you have a way of screwing with people." He walked away quickly.

Hannibal and Francesca started to walk toward the elevator. He asked, "Nothing's wrong with Mel?"

"I guess it depends on your opinions on life. Your… ideals," Francesca laughed quietly. They stopped in front of the elevator, "I think Tommy will be happy."

Still confused, Hannibal pressed the down button on the elevator.

Beaming, Francesca continued, "Mel's pregnant."

"Really?" Hannibal examined the smile. It was bold, it was cheerful, it was real.

"She just couldn't wait for Tommy to get back home," they stepped into the elevator. "But anyway, how are you?"

He leaned on the wall, "I've been fine."

"Are you still single?" she sighed as the door closed.

Hannibal gave her a sidelong gaze, "Yes…"

Francesca bit her lip, "Thank God."

She put his hands on his cheeks and kissed him deeply. When she pulled away, Hannibal frowned, "Wow."

"I know," she smiled and flipped down the manual stop for the elevator.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled, "Great idea."

_End Flashback_

Francesca took the vodka bottle again and drank. She now was sitting over Face, her knife lingering over the wound, "Okay. I can get it out. Didn't hit any major veins or arteries. Deep breaths." She held up her knife, "This _is _going to hurt."

Face bent his head back, feeling a deep stab in his leg. He clenched his teeth on the towel and resisted the urge to scream. Both Murdock and Hannibal stared intently at what she was doing while B.A. looked away and tried to not hear the groans. Francesca pulled the bullet from his leg and compressed another towel, "Where's the lighter?"

Reaching into his pocket, Hannibal handed it to her, "How long is recovery?"

"Um… it depends on how fast it heels. So he doesn't get an infection," Francesca put her knife over the lighter for a little bit. "Luckily it didn't hit any major arteries. It's okay."

Face reached for the whisky, the towel dropping from his mouth.

She cauterized the wound. Face rolled his head around, "Holy… holy…"

"Done," Francesca smiled in reassurance to Face. She touched the wound, "It'll be okay."

A phone tinkled from the chair in the corner.

Face was still reeling, "That's yours."

B.A. picked it out of Face's pants pocket and was about to put it on speaker.

Hannibal looked at Francesca, "Let her take the call."

She took the phone and leaned on the wall, "Hello?"

They all waited in anticipation for her responses.

"No, no I'm glad you called. What's going on?" Francesca set herself up for an emotional downturn.

A long pause.

Francesca mouth fell open, "No. No, you can't do that."

Hannibal stood up a little straighter.

"I'm his medical proxy, Mel. You can't do that unless I say so," her eyes seethed in anger. "Tommy will get through it, he will."

Another long pause. Francesca hung up, her hands shaking.

Everyone stared at the phone. Francesca went toward the door, "I need a moment."

"You're not going anywhere," B.A. urgently tried to stop her.

"What the hell am I going to do?" her voice heightened in pitch. "Fine."

She dropped the knife, kicked off both of her shoes, and unclipped the silver bracelet from her wrist. With a strong flick, she threw it across the room, fuming. The four men could see tears forming in her eyes. "I have _nothing_."

Then, Francesca opened the door and left.

Hannibal leaned on the dresser and covered his eyes. No one spoke. So he stood back up, walking out the door. "Francesca!"

She didn't reply. She walked down the steps toward the parking lot.

"Francesca, stop."

"Leave me alone!" Francesca cried.

He followed her through the weaving path, "Stop for a minute."

"Please!" she kept going.

First, Hannibal stopped, "Just talk to me."

Francesca turned around and threw her hands up, "Fine." She ran her hand through her hair, "What now?"

He sat down beside her, "What's going on?"

"You just have to pry and poke into everything, don't you?" she snapped.

Hannibal shook his head, "That's not what I'm trying to do."

Francesca desperately didn't want to cry in front of him. But she couldn't stop herself. The first tear dripped down her cheek, "Tommy is all I have left and Mel's taking him away from me."

"Francesca…" Hannibal couldn't really speak. He knew that he had once been on that list. She used to be able to go to him for anything. Those days had passed. He put his arm around her and felt her face fall into his chest, "It's okay. It's just as hard for her. And me."

Francesca sobbed, grabbing his shirt. She remembered when he used to hold her. When she was near him because she wanted to be. However, this wasn't the same because now, her heart was broken.


	8. Chapter 8: Just Breathe

Francesca looked up at the clock. It was three in the morning. She was still awake, couldn't sleep, not that the floor was very comfortable. All four of the men had dozed off while she had been washing blood out of the towels which was not an easy task.

Now she was staring at blank television screen. It was the kind of stare where you saw nothing and everything at the same time. In the reflection, she saw someone stirring in the bed. She turned a little.

Murdock rolled off to stand up. He looked down at her, "What're you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," she whispered.

"Oh," he plopped down beside her. "You might as well turn the television on, these guys sleep like logs. Especially Hannibal."

Francesca picked up the remote, "Oh, I know."

"Yeah, you would, wouldn't you?" he smiled. "I was surprised when everything ended."

She shrugged, "It was bound to. I really should've seen it. But I didn't. I was 'young and naïve'," she quoted.

"If it's any consolation," he said in the most sympathetic of tones. "Hannibal seemed happy."

Francesca leaned back on the foot of the bed, "If he had been happy, he wouldn't have left. And if he wouldn't have left I would have never-" She stopped herself, "Never mind."

"Never what?"

"Nothing."

Her stomach ached, but not from the lack of food or anything, but because of the bullet wound. Every so often, it would give her terrible cramps. Sometimes she could withstand the pain and continue on. Others, she had to stop and wither away. Francesca stood up, doubled-over and breathed deeply.

"You okay?" Murdock looked up.

"Not really," she went into the bathroom and sat next to the tub. She rested her head on the ledge. The cold soaked through her skin.

Murdock stood in the doorway, "What's wrong?"

"Just go to sleep," Francesca's eyelids finally felt heavy. "I'll be fine."

_Flashback-So Happy I Could Die_

Francesca hurriedly buttoned the last button on her shirt before the elevator doors opened. She looked over at Hannibal who had his hands rested behind his back. He took a deep breath, "That was fun."

"Yeah," Francesca smiled. "That was…" The doors slid open and they both looked picture perfect. They stepped out of the elevator. "Did I ever ask you-"

"I'm very well," Hannibal cleared his throat.

She blushed as they went toward the swanky restaurant at one end of the lobby, "I'm sorry. I was very caught up in the moment."

"I don't blame you," he smirked.

Francesca stared into the restaurant and saw Tommy sitting at a table near a tall window. Going forward, she made sure Tommy caught her eye. He stood up, his mouth a little wide.

"You've heard I take it?" she crossed her arms.

Tommy shook his head, "I can't…"

She rolled her eyes and threw her arms around him, "You're silly."

He staggered back for a moment. Hannibal came up slowly, laughing at Tommy's shocked face, "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Tommy sighed, wrapping one of his arms around Francesca. "I'm actually going home."

Francesca frowned, "You can do that?"

"I don't really care," he scoffed. "I'm going home on the next flight to Portland."

"Well, then you better get going," Hannibal glanced at Francesca. Here eyes widened.

She sighed, "You have to go?"

"Yes, I do!" he laughed.

Tommy kissed her cheek, smiling boldly. He then patted Hannibal on the shoulder as he skipped off in elation. Francesca fell into one of the chairs at the table.

"You alright?" Hannibal sat down across from her.

"I just need some alcohol," she pursed her lips and leaned back in the chair. Francesca looked out the window at the overcast day. "I will then be peachy."

Smiling, Hannibal opened a menu on the table, "I understand."

"I can't stand meetings. I used to come to New York to dance and to live. And now… Pffffftttt," Francesca leaned on the table.

"Well, we've got tonight."

"Tonight," she smiled. "Yes, we do have tonight."

_End Flashback_

Hannibal woke up out of his sleep. The sun let in a little light through the dusty windows. He rose and looked into the bathroom. Francesca was curled up against the tub, sleeping.

"Francesca?" he crouched down and knelt on the floor.

Her eyes opened slowly, "What- Hannibal? What's going-" She stopped. Her head was throbbing. Breathing, she tried to bring everything together, "What?"

"We should get moving," he said quietly.

"God, five more minutes and I would've been golden," Francesca sat up, holding her forehead in her palm.

Hannibal sighed, "Well, I'm sorry."

There was a pounding sound and some worried, quiet exclamations from the others. Hannibal peaked outside the bathroom. Someone was trying to get in. "Guys, get in here."

B.A. was raising Face off the bed, who could walk, though he flinched every time he put his wounded leg down. Murdock rushed in.

Getting up, Francesca turned to the low window. She took Murdock's baseball cap and burrowed her fist into hit, "Step back." She thrust her fist into the window, which seemed to crash the moment she touched it. "You guys go out now. There's a dumpster not too far down."

"What about you?" Hannibal frowned.

"Oh, I'll be out in no time," Francesca crossed her arms and helped Murdock jump down. "You three go down, I'll help Face."

He gave her a look of concern, then another of relief. "Okay."

Francesca gave him a thin smile as she pushed another piece of glass of the sill. Hannibal crawled out the window too, followed by B.A. They all kept there eyes on Face as Francesca helped in crawl out carefully. "You're not going to push me or something, are you?" he narrowed his eyes.

"No, no I'm not," she gave him a serious gaze and then helped him get his bum leg out the window.

Face nodded slowly, "Alright."

Suddenly, she heard the door collapse into the room. "Damn." She went into the next room and found three men in black, with a bright yellow sliver on the jackets. They all held guns to her.

"Hey, sweetheart," one of them twanged, putting down his gun. "You look forlorn… Do you need someone to make it better?"

Francesca pursed her lips and didn't respond.

"Did they hurt you?" another came closer and pushed a lock of her hair away from her face. "Huh?"

"What do you want?" she drew back.

The first one spoke again, "Where are those men that held you here?"

She felt like they were dealing cards right into her hand. Francesca let her lower lips quiver, "They went out the back window."

"Can you show us?" the last one said in a not so consoling tone.

Francesca went to the bathroom doorway and pointed to the window. All three of them followed her finger. She crept up behind them and grabbed the one in the middle first by the coat. In her other hand, she twisted her fingers through his dark, greasy hair. He shouted in pain and fell back on the bathroom floor. Francesca then reached around and found two pressure points on the others necks, squeezed and began to climb out the window as they fell.

"Not so fast," the man on the floor sat up and grabbed her ankles.

Holding onto the sill, Francesca grit her teeth as the man pulled her back. She felt a piece of glass slit her wrist, "What the Hell do you want?"

"Just a few minutes of your time," he got his grip around her waist and pulled her into the bedroom. "Now-"

"Why are you after us? I mean the Alpha Team… and me," Francesca ripped another scrap of her shirt to tie off the wound.

He cackled, "It's been a long time coming."

"But… why?"

"Let's just say they were in the wrong place at the wrong place and just killed the wrong guy."

Francesca began to nod, "Well… that makes so much sense."

The man then forced her against the wall, "So am I going to have to force this outta you or what?"

"Force," she stated, trying to swallow.

"Yeah," he put his hand on her waist and moved closer, making no space between them.

Outside, Murdock had started to hotwire a black SUV. Hannibal stood over him, tapping his foot. He was worried about Francesca. "You think she's okay?"

"You know her," B.A. smirked.

"I think she can handle herself. I mean," Face relaxed into the back seat. "I don't know."

Hannibal moved back and ran up the staircase toward the room. He pressed his ear up to the door and pushed his way through the five people who stood in front of the door, staring and probably waiting for the police.

"Let…let go of me!" Francesca's voice choked out.

"Relax, kitten," a man's voice drawled. "You're in good hands."

Then, he could hear a struggle and a screech. In a panic, Hannibal forced the door open. The first thing he saw was Francesca on the floor, reeling in pain.

Hannibal watched blood trickled down her face from her left temple and across the corner of her lip. Francesca looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and watering. She whispered, "John…"

The man turned, held his gun up to the colonel, "Well, well, if it isn't Colonel Smith?"

Reaching toward the gun, Hannibal ducked and punched him in the gut, "You son of a bitch."

Francesca reached for the man's ankles and pulled his feet from under him. He hit his head on the corner of the TV stand. Hannibal bent down to Francesca, "Are you okay?"

She blinked a couple times and nodded, "I think so."

"Are you sure?" he smiled. Hannibal pulled his cuff, rubbing the blood off the left side of her face.

Francesca breathed in deeply, "You saved me."

"You could've easily saved yourself."

Leaning forward, Francesca put her arms around him and said, "Thank you."

Hannibal rested his chin on the top of her head and tried to catch his breath.

**I hope you're still intrigued. I'm having fun writing it! Please review! **

**DG**


	9. Chapter 9: Teenage Dream

Francesca crawled over toward the unconscious man and opened his jacket. She slipped her hands into the pocket, pulling out all the contents. She found a crinkled envelope that someone had ripped open in a hurry, a cell phone, and a wallet. Hannibal stood up, walking over to the bathroom, "Come on, we've gotten what we need."

Following him, Francesca smiled to herself. She felt a little lightheaded, stopping at the sink for some balance.

"You okay?" Hannibal reached back.

"I'm fine," she grit her teeth and went a little farther toward the window.

Hannibal took her hand and helped her out, "Are you sure?"

"Would I-" Francesca felt faint again and accidentally let go of the sill a bit too earlier. She fell a few feet onto the dumpster. Hannibal flinched when he heard the aftermath. "I'm okay…" she groaned.

Jumping down, Hannibal bent toward her. "Come on, we'll clean you up."

"Okay," she smiled, rolling off onto her feet.

The van pulled up in front of them, B.A. driving, "Get in."

Hannibal got into the passenger seat and Francesca climbed into the back with Face and Murdock. "Are you okay?" Face looked at her with wide eyes."

Francesca cocked her head to the side, catching Hannibal in the corner of her eye, "I'm fine. Thank you."

"Just drive," Hannibal told B.A.

Francesca opened the letter and read it. Her eyes grazed the page with ferocity. She leaned back, feeling lightheaded.

"Francesca, lie down," Hannibal ordered. He didn't look back at her.

She didn't hesitate. She relaxed into a comfortable position and quickly fell asleep.

_Flashback _

Francesca opened the door to her hotel room, kissing Hannibal slowly. She fell back onto the ground and laughed. Hannibal closed the door lay next to her, one arm over her.

"I think I had too much to drink," she hiccupped and ran her hand down the back of his head.

"Oh, relax, you're in good hands," Hannibal kissed her jaw.

She pulled at his collar, "You think so highly of yourself, John." They kissed deeply. "When're you going back?"

"Shhhh… calm down."

"Trust me, you don't want me to calm down," Francesca pushed him over and kicked her shoes off. "I'm going into the bedroom and then you're going to count to ten and then you can come in and make yourself comfortable." She rolled over and got up.

Hannibal knew that this wasn't going to be good. The first thing he heard was a yelp of pain and then the movement of an ottoman. Then there was a small giggle. He got up and saw her legs straight up in the air behind a green ottoman. "Let me help you up," he smiled.

Her legs fell to the side, "Oh no, there's a nice view from down here."

He went and sat next to her, "I think you had a lot too much to drink."

"At least I understand what I'm saying when I'm drunk," Francesca threw her hands behind her.

Hannibal shook his head, "You have lost all your inhibitions."

She sat up and turned toward the windows, "It's such a beautiful view."

"Yes," he leaned into kiss her, only to find the air where she once was.

Francesca went out onto the balcony, leaning on the railing, "Just look at it. You can see for miles."

He laughed, "The view from here is good for me."

"You're gross," she looked back and smiled.

"At least I'm honest."

Turning around, she bit her lip, "Come on out."

"I guess I will," he droned, acting like it was a problem. He came up behind her, put his hands on either side of her, and pressed his lips on the top of her ear.

"Have you ever felt like everything could just fall away at any second?" her voice became cold.

Hannibal frowned and mumbled, "I suppose."

"Just that everything could drop out of sight. You can't find anything. And you reach to get it, but you just can't reach," Francesca closed her eyes, feeling her heart beat like a drum.

Watching her for a moment, Hannibal breathed slowly. She looked so peaceful and devastatingly beautiful, but he knew something was wrong. "Francesca."

"I mean," her head fell to the side, almost as if she couldn't control it. "Have you ever taken the time to look at the zipper on your pants? It has a little name on it. Most of mine say 'Talon'. I don't know about you, but if I had died before I knew that, I would have been very disappointed."

Hannibal pushed a lock of hair from her face, "You're tired. And drunk."

"So drunk…" she agreed quickly.

"Yes, you're right," he laughed.

Francesca pushed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, "It's really warm out here."

Hannibal raised one eyebrow, "Warm?"

"Yeah…" she met his gaze and shrugged. "Really hot."

_End Flashback_

They all got out of the car and made there way into the small diner with the red and white finish. Francesca shook her head to the side, making hair cover the gash in her forehead. Crowding into a booth, they let out a collective sigh.

"I am so hungry," Francesca pulled a menu from the table.

The four men stared at her for a moment. Her eyes looked simply at the menu, not even focused on the task at hand.

"I just want a burger, is that such a bad thing?" she continued.

"Francesca," Hannibal closed his eyes.

Rolling her own, she put the letter down on the table. "The letter states three locations. The first is San Francisco, second is Galway, Ireland." She took a deep breath, "The last is Rio De Janeiro."

"What was with the dramatic pause?" Face frowned.

Francesca crossed her arms, "That was all that it said." She showed them the paper. The black ink stood out on the page as Hannibal tried to analyze the document for every detail. "It's ink on a piece of paper. I highly doubt that there is any lemon juice on it, none of it is rippled. But…"

"But what?" B.A. jumped at the small word.

"But there may be something that can," Francesca smiled. "A microdot. All I need is a microscope and I can analyze that I's the period's everything."

Face growled, "Well where the hell are we going to get a microscope?"

"Ah, yes," Francesca looked up at the waitress. "I'd like a burger with everything on the side except for the tomatoes. I don't want the tomatoes." She carried on, smiling to herself, "And I'd also like a diet coke. With a bendy straw."

The waitress bit her lip, "Yeah, yeah."

"Thank you," Francesca closed the menu and nodded. "Boys?"

**Sorry about the long wait, but I've been sooooooo so busy. I'll try to get the chapters out quicker guys. **

**Keep reading!**


	10. Chapter 10: Copacabana

Francesca drove this time, letting the boys fall asleep. She was energized now with the letter in her pocket. Hannibal slept in the passenger seat, but for a very short time. It was like he was waiting for the others to get into REM cycle before he opened his eyes again. "Hi," he smiled.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Francesca smiled back and whispered.

"I wanted to get a chance to talk," Hannibal sat up a little.

Keeping her eyes and road, Francesca sighed, "About what?"

"Come on, Francesca, you know what I want to talk about," he wanted her to look at him, catch the glint in his eyes, but she wouldn't.

"John…" she hesitated. "It's been a long, long time. It's been over for awhile."

He nodded, "I know, but… I'm sorry."

"Sorry," Francesca shook her head, laughing. "You were right."

"You'll make some guy really happy."

She pursed her lips, "I hope. If I live long enough."

Hannibal watched her delicate hands flip on the turn signal. Her eyes were glazed over, twinkling in the lights. He finally said, "Don't talk about that."

"Oh, well…Might as well face it," Francesca came to a dark house. "This is the place."

_Flashback_

Another two months went by after their second encounter. Hannibal and the guys had a week off after a mission and Hannibal thought they should take it off for once. He realized that he was in New York. Yes, New York. New York was near Massachusetts. Francesca lived in Massachusetts.

He decided to take a trip down there for a little entertainment. He said that he was going down to meet an old friend and the guys decided to join him, much to Hannibal's chagrin.

They arrived in Boston at ten o'clock at night. The other three slipped off to go drink Finding her apartment, Hannibal ran up the stairs, eager. It was a nice apartment complex despite the elevator being broken. When he reached her door, he hesitated before he knocked. There were no voices coming from inside, but he could here footsteps, like pacing. Hannibal knocked.

The door opened almost as soon as he lifted his hand from the door. Francesca stood before him in a robe. Her eyes widened as she said quickly, "John what are you ding here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," he stated the blatant lie. "I thought I'd drop by."

Francesca didn't speak, still a little surprised.

Hannibal lowered his voice, feeling a little shot down, "If this is a bad time I can go."

"No," she shook her head and stepped back. "Come in."

Entering the apartment, he glanced around. The ceilings were lofty in the living room, a tall staircase led to a second level. The views were spectacular that her thought he'd be able to see better from the balcony off the second floor landing. "Do you want anything to drink?" she asked. "I have soda, water, coffee, any type of alcohol you could think of," Francesca gave him a meek smile. She stepped into the kitchen which was adjoined to the living room.

Hannibal returned the smile, "I'll just have some coffee."

"So, what's going on? In the city again…" she started to make a new pot off coffee.

"You don't have to make anymore, I'll take the-" he began, watching her move slowly.

She cut him off, "Don't worry about it. I was going to need some more anyway."

"Thanks," he sat down slowly on a leather chair. "So, I got a week off, I was around, I thought I should come by and say hi." Hannibal rarely took the time he had off. He was normally on to the next mission. But this was different. He had someone to come home to… kind of.

Francesca looked up at him, "It was nice of you to think of me. The boys? How are they?"

"Oh they've been good. They're in town too," he cleared his throat, walking into the kitchen. "But I kinda just wanted to get away."

She didn't meet his gaze, "I can only imagine."

"So I thought that you'd be a good distraction," Hannibal smirked.

She grinned, "Yeah, I would be." She poured him a cup of coffee and then turned back to the living room. "Do you want to sit down, relax for a little bit?"

Hannibal followed her with an odd stare. "Sure." He sat down on the leather couch and looked at the coffee table. A little plastic _thing _gave the table a round corner.

Francesca saw him staring, "I've been baby proofing."

He gave her a surprised look.

"For Tommy's little girl," she reassured him. "They realized that baby is mine just as much as she is theirs."

They both laughed a little, Francesca relaxing a bit. She was definitely on edge. Hannibal was in her house at the exact wrong moment. She needed to beeline for the bathroom and take a peek but she just couldn't. Not with _him _here.

"You're excited then," he leaned back.

"So excited," she brushed her hair away from her face. "It'll be nice to get the family a little bigger. Currently we have three members," she smiled. "I'm really getting ahead of myself with all this crap," Francesca blushed and looked into her lap. "I need to- I'll be-" she tripped over her words as she rose. "I have to do something."

Hannibal put his cup down and stood up, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. No!" Francesca tried to cover up her emotions. "No, that's not it."

"Are you sure?"

She paused, "Yeah, I've just been really distracted lately." She realized that if she wanted things to end there, she'd have to make a move. Before he could speak, Francesca kissed him gently and then a little more frivolously. She felt bad for having to trick him into this, but she knew there was a larger punishment for her.

Francesca would have to wait a long time before she could look in the bathroom.

_End Flashback_

Francesca asked Murdock for the key he had gotten so long ago from that house in Southbrook. She unlocked the front door to the almost antebellum styled house. The inside was dusty, unkempt, but strikingly beautiful. A large, grand staircase started right in the middle of the foyer. Francesca ran up them and gestured for the guys to follow.

They ended up in a large, young girl's room. The bedding was light pink, along with everything else, but there was an entire half of the room that was cleared away from pink and just full of equipment. Francesca smiled, "This was Granny's house."

"The operative word being 'was'," Face rolled his eyes.

"She passed ten years ago, left the house to me and Tommy. Tomtom handed it to me and now…" she went over to a cardboard table that had been set up. "I use it for work." She pressed her hand against a dresser, and yanked it open. "Will all of you spread out and do stuff?" Francesca felt their eyes pressed against her. Taking out the letter from her pocket and a microscope from the drawer, she went back to the table.

The guys all went about the room, inspecting every element. "Oh," Face looked down. "My Super-Secret Diary." He held up a little locked book. "Got the key, Francesca."

Francesca began to set up the microscope, smirking, "The key is in the music box."

"I wanna hear this," B.A. went over to meet Face.

Rolling her eyes, she continued to look for the microdots.

Face forced open the lock and turned to a random page, "_May 6__th__, 1997: Prom is tomorrow. Kara and I are ditching and going into the city. We're going to see if we can pass for twenty-one. I got a push up bra especially for the occasion. Prom is waste of time. Let's go where the big boys are._" They all hooted, except for Hannibal who watched Francesca with a wide grin.

"Read the next one," she didn't look up from the eyepiece. "That'll give you something to laugh at."

"_May 8__th__, 1997: Drum roll—I am no longer a virgin. Thank you, God. Kara and I snuck into this nightclub with ease. I don't really remember how I got there, but the next thing I knew I was on my back in a hotel bed. This guy-_" Face read on with wide eyes. Hannibal had joined the circle, confused.

"_Tore off my clothes with his teeth and ravaged me like a black stallion at sunset_." Francesca finished the sentence and looked over at them.

All four men stared at her in shock. Francesca gave them a smile, "I know. I was a naughty girl. I found a microdot by the way."

None of them paid attention, looking back in the book. "_He was twenty-three and I think his name was Troy. Like the ancient city. Yum._"

"I found a _microdot_," Francesca snapped at them, laughing. "Come on, get out of my teenage fantasies."

Hannibal took the book and threw it across the room, "Anyway…"

Francesca cleared her throat, "By the way, that diary isn't mine."

"What?" Face groaned. "You're kidding me!"

"No, I'm not," she looked back into the microscope. "Anyway… _Tickets are waiting for you. Rio this time of year is perfect. Meet me at the song palace… The deal is going down in a gem. Yours._"

"So a love interest…" Murdock hooted.

"What's the song palace?" B.A. smirked.

Hannibal frowned, trying to think, "It's the song… The Copacabana Palace…"

"Exactly and the gem is…" Francesca began.

"The Crystal Room," they said in unison.


	11. Chapter 11: Late

**I'm sorry about taking so long! I've had so much work and just finished this chapter. I hope you like it. :)**

**If you have any questions, concerns, comments, criticisms etc... Review!**

**DG**

"What's the Crystal Room?" Face looked to both of them as they reminisced in silence.

Francesca broke away from Hannibal's gaze, "It's a room… and it's décor is crystal."

"Gotcha there!" Murdock punched Face's arm.

"Well, anyway, I guess we're headed to Rio," Hannibal sat down on the bed.

She nodded, "We have to make a few stops along the way. You know…"

"I know. We need all the glitz and the glamour. I get it."

"How do you guys know about this? Like did you have a hot date at the Crystal Room?" Face laughed.

Francesca rolled her eyes as Hannibal shook his head.

But just as Francesca was going to speak again, there was a crash from downstairs. Hannibal's eyes widened. He put his hand on her shoulder, "We're going out the window."

"No, we're not-" she laughed.

Hannibal's expression didn't falter. He motioned to B.A. who gave him a curt nod and a "Sure, boss."

B.A. locked his arms around Francesca's waist, who screamed. Hannibal shushed her, "You want us to all get killed?"

"You want me to have a heart attack?" she gasped.

"You're going to go with B.A. and Murdock. Face and I will take care of these guys," Hannibal narrowed his eyes.

Francesca tried not to protest, biting her lip. Hannibal and Face left the room. Hannibal pulled his gun out, holding it up. "Cover me, Face," he said.

"Yup," Face ducked down around the corner.

Going forward to the stairs, Hannibal peered over the banister. A dark figure emerged, "Colonel Smith."

Hannibal shot the gun quickly, but the suspect dodged it. Face ran out from the darkness and slid down the banister, trying to aim, but ending up unsuccessful. The conflict continued while Francesca, Murdock, and B.A. ran out toward the car. Once in and considerably safe, Murdock watched Francesca's worried eyes, sure her heart was beating quickly.

_Flashback_

Francesca and Hannibal lay next to each other in her bed. Francesca's heart was palpitating so quickly. She had to figure out an excuse to go downstairs. Hannibal rolled over, putting his arm around her, "Thanks."

"Oh, anytime," she smiled meekly.

He kissed her neck and smiled, "I'm going to go get some water."

"Oh no!" she almost leapt out of the bed. "Let me get it for you." Francesca left the room and bounded down the stairs. The bathroom door was left open. She slid in, her heart beating wildly. Then she stopped.

Should she look? Was it an okay time to look? What if it was positive and she had to tell him? She decided that it had to be done.

Francesca picked up the pregnancy test and closed her eyes. "Don't panic," she murmured and then opened them. One line… "What does that mean?" Francesca shook her head. She bent down and looked into the trash.

"Francesca?" Hannibal shouted from the staircase.

Plucking out the box, she looked up with worried eyes, "Yes, John?"

"Where are you?"

She looked at the box, fumbling. _One Line-Not Pregnant_. Francesca grinned. "Yes!" she screeched.

"What?" Hannibal's footsteps came closer.

Quickly, she threw the test away, looking up to find Hannibal in the doorway. "Hi," she blushed.

"You okay?" he held out his hand.

"Great," she accepted it.

There was a knock on the door. Francesca went over to the door and opened it. "Hello?"

Murdock stood in front of the door, staring at Hannibal who was in the kitchen behind her. "Candy apple red," he smiled.

Hannibal heard the twang in his voice and automatically dropped the cup he was holding. It shattered across the floor. Francesca looked back at him, his eyes were wild and almost angry. "Captain Murdock," Francesca nodded, knowingly.

"I just was trying to track down the boss, found the car here and found out from the doorman that an, and I quote, 'insanely tall man with white hair', came up here last night," Murdock grinned, almost instinctively.

"Captain Murdock," Hannibal said gravely. "May I speak to you in private?"

Francesca looked down, closing the door behind Murdock, "John, that's not necessary."

"John?" Murdock looked between them. "You call him John?"

"Yes, she does," Hannibal spoke for her.

"I know your name, but you don't know mine," Francesca held out her hand to Murdock. "I'm Agent Francesca Barrett."

He accepted it with a little hesitation. He was so confused with the situation, Hannibal and a woman. It was nothing he had ever experienced, but he had thought about it.

Hannibal, on the other hand, was so embarrassed. Not that he was found with Francesca, but that he was found at all. "It's a friends with benefits type thing, nothing to fret about," Francesca patted Murdock's shoulder.

"That's all," Hannibal said definitively.

"Well, boss, we should get going," Murdock swallowed, getting ready for his wrath.

"Yeah," Hannibal picked his shirt off the couch, clearing his throat. "Give me a minute.

Murdock didn't move, still stunned.

Going to Hannibal, Francesca kissed his cheek, "Have fun saving the world."

"Oh, I will," he pushed Murdock out the door.

Francesca closed it behind him and sighed. The only thing that would've made that worse is if she had actually been pregnant. Because then she would've had to tell Hannibal that this little affair had turned into more than just an affair.

_End Flashback_

Ten minutes later, Face and Hannibal came running from the house to the car. One of them was motioning for something.

Francesca started the car, drove toward them, and stopped. They both jumped in, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Francesca laughed at Hannibal, who was trying to catch his breath.

"Drive!" Hannibal shook his head.

"Okay! Relax," Francesca smirked and drove off.

Face swallowed, "Where are we going?"

"Rio," Murdock hit Face on the shoulder.

"No," Francesca raised her eyebrows. "We're going to have to make a couple stops."

Hannibal frowned, "Like what?"

"If we're going to blend in at The Crystal Room, we're going to have to look presentable."

"We can't let you drive us around," Face leaned in between the front seats. "I mean, you could still be a double agent."

Hannibal was quiet, his eyes sad. He looked to Francesca who had her eyes on the road, "I'm not. Really."

She pulled up in front of a brightly lit house. Francesca was the first to get out. When she realized none of them were following her, she motioned toward them. They all went up the front steps.

"Don't trust her," Face said to himself.

Francesca rang the doorbell, "Shut up, Face."

The door opened to reveal a portly woman with rosy cheeks. "Francesca Barrett…" she said in disbelief.

"Hi, Polly," Francesca blushed.

"It's been four years," Polly reached up to Francesca's face. "You don't look any different."

She nodded, "I know."

"How old are you now?" Polly said.

Francesca quickly glanced back at the four men and mumbled, "Thirty-two."

Gasping, Polly pinched her cheeks, "Not a day over twenty-one."

"You're not still smoking are you?" she started to see the men standing behind her.

"Not often," Francesca grimaced.

"Who are these… fine gentleman?" Polly gave the dirty men the once over.

She stepped aside to reveal them all, "Polly, this is Captain Murdock, Lieutenant Peck, Sergeant Baracus, and…" Francesca cleared her throat, "Colonel Smith."

Polly's eyes were wide.

"The A-Team," Francesca pushed her way into the house, brushing her hair off her shoulders and glancing back at them all.


	12. Chapter 12: Lie To Me

**Hi guys! So I know it's been awhile. I didn't have internet for a week, so in that time, I wrote about three chapters! Be prepared for an overload of stuff, because it's going to be awesome. I appreciate all of the reviewers, subscribers, and favoriters (which is not a word, I know). On with the show!**

Polly, still shocked, held out her hand toward each man. "I'm Polly. Come in," she opened the door farther so the men could enter, glanced around the outside and closed it behind them.

B.A. was glaring at Francesca wanting to say _I'm a corporal, Jesus. _But he restrained himself, not wanting to embarrass her.

Francesca had made her way into the living room and sat down at the piano. Face and B.A. sat down on the couches, Murdock flitted about the room, and Hannibal leaned on the doorframe. Polly made her way to the piano as Francesca began to touch the keys slowly.

"Can I get you gentleman anything?" Polly touched Francesca's shoulder.

"_Through thick and through thin…_" Francesca belted out in chest voice, plunking the notes to a show tune.

"No, we'll be fine," Hannibal answered.

"_All out or all innnnn-a," _it was obvious all Francesca was trying to do was be obnoxious.

Polly rolled her eyes, "Francesca…"

She pressed a key to match the pitch, "Ye- Wait." She pressed another key, "Yes?"

"You're here for something?"

"Yes," she replied. "Yes we are." She began to play a soothing, calm piece on the piano. "We are heading off to Brazil for a very prestigious dinner. A self appointed mission, you may call it. We need some lovely clothing."

Face sighed, "This is stupid… this is-"

"The only way we'll be able to pull off anything," Francesca pointed out. She stopped playing, got up, and went into the kitchen. She came back with an Apple laptop. "Who wants to do some hacking?"

Murdock raised his hand, "Yes! Me! Pick me!"

"You're my favorite Murdock," she shoved the laptop into his arms and lowered her voice. "Don't screw that up."

Murdock was silent, his eyes widened. He new exactly what she was insinuating. Murdock wouldn't admit it, but she could scare the crap out of him. Sure she was beautiful, she was obviously caring, but she's an excellent fighter, small and strong. He gave her a small nod and a smile, and she smiled back, "Good."

Polly scanned the men, "I'll take you guys upstairs to be measured."

"Measured?" B.A. gasped. "What?"

Francesca had retreated back to the piano bench, "_And whether it's win, place, or show. With you for me and me for you-_"

"_We'll muddle through whatever we do,_" Murdock chirped.

"Murdock, start some hacking," she smiled. "I'll tell you what you have to do. Go on, boys. Get fitted for your dashing suits and tuxedos. We'll take care of the rest."

They all went up the steps following Polly, Hannibal going more slowly as he watched Murdock sit beside her on the bench, scrolling on the computer. He smiled meekly and then ran up the steps to catch up to them.

"Alright, we have to find out what's going on at the Crystal room with the next week or I guess month. It's something political, it's something lavish and… spectacularly cunning. Do you understand?" Francesca plotted on the piano.

"You mean like this?" Murdock held up the computer to show the calendar of events on the Crystal Room website.

Francesca narrowed her eyes, "Very good, Murdock."

He smiled at her, happy to win her approval.

"Now, political events. Events to which an American politician would be invited. Multiple if you are so able," she started to play _Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head_.

Murdock searched for one or two minutes and then gestured to the screen, "There. It's like a political conference, party, meeting, thing-a-ma-bob."

"Lovely," Francesca stopped playing the piano. "Now for the hard part." She started to type in codes, passwords and finally she came upon a guest list of over two hundred and fifty people. "Lovely."

After searching through the list they found fifteen Americans, three women, two of them white, and of course twelve men. "Okay… this is perfect. We cancel the American reservations and then make our own. We can masquerade as these people. Prosthetics, nose jobs, weight gain, it's perfect."

"Let's see, who should we be?" Murdock scrolled through the people.

"Here," Francesca pointed to a married couple from the states. "I slightly resemble her. And Hannibal can dye his hair."

Murdock gaped at her, "You still like the boss. You're not over him."

"I am over him, but I can still have fun, can't I?" Francesca rolled her eyes.

Upstairs, Polly was putting her measuring tape around Face's waist, secretly enjoying every minute of it. "How do you know Francesca?" he asked.

Polly smiled, "My daughter, Mary, and her went to high school together." She gestured to something on the other side of the room, "Mary kept scrapbooks if you'd like to look at some pictures."

"No way," B.A. gasped and ran over to the albums. He pulled one out and turned to a random page. Hannibal wanted to run over and look, trying not to look eager.

"I was like Francesca's mom," Polly reminisced. "She was such a smart girl, so driven. But she was definitely a flirt. I don't remember a night when she didn't walk up to the door with a boy holding her books."

Hannibal frowned, "Did she live here?"

"Practically," Polly sighed. "When Tommy went off to training, her mom passed away. Heart attack. She was so young. It was the saddest thing."

Hannibal as quiet while he listened, surprised and shocked at everything he was told. He hadn't known that Francesca's mother had died when she wasn't even out of school or that she lived with her best friend for a long time.

"Francesca was completely devastated, but she wouldn't show it," Polly continued. "So she channeled her energy into her school work. Valedictorian of her class, all honors classes. She got into Yale because her teacher urged her to send in an application, but she didn't want to go. It was the military for her. She thought she owed it to her brother, to her mother, but especially her father."

Hannibal pried, "To her father?"

"She had a long battle with that too. She thought that if he ever found her again, she wanted to show him that she was stronger than him," Polly hit Face on the backside to get him off the pedestal, but also to check out the merchandise.

Face hopped down, frowning, but surprisingly intrigued. Hannibal laughed.

Grinning, Polly wrote down some measurements. "Alright, you men should get off to bed. You have a long day tomorrow."

"We do?" B.A. started leafing through the album.

"Knowing Francesca, you definitely do."

_Flashback_

Hannibal led Murdock into the elevator, leering every chance he got. Murdock shrunk back into the corner of the elevator.

"I specifically told you to wait for me," Hannibal murmured. "You went against my instructions."

"You're not mad that I didn't follow the plan," Murdock shrugged. "You're mad that you got caught."

He shook his head, "I did not get caught. There was nothing for me to get caught in."

"Then why are you so mad? You've obviously been on a rendezvous with this Francesca person and it has been a secret for who knows how long. I don't know why you would but-" Murdock stopped for a minute. "Francesca Barrett."

The elevator stopped and two women got on.

Hannibal closed his eyes, "Murdock…"

"Barrett!" Murdock's eyes were wild in delight and hilarity. "Tommy Barrett! You're trying to keep it a secret because you're having sex with his little sister. That's some crazy stuff right there."

The two women looked up.

Hannibal bit his lip, "Pardon me."

The elevator door opened again and he dragged Murdock out to the lobby. He took him by the shoulders, "Look, Murdock. This is was a secret. It was between me and Francesca and now you're in on it. But you're going to have to keep it. If the boys found out I'd be a joke and if Tommy found out I'd be dead. So just keep it to yourself. If you have any questions, please _hesitate _to ask."

Murdock nodded, "I have one question though."

"Yes?" Hannibal gritted his teeth and dropped his hands.

"Why would you be a joke?"

"Because…" Hannibal looked off in the distance to figure out his plan of action. "Because I'm the man with the plan. This is all I am. Face has sex, B.A. fights, and you're crazy. There is no room for error in me. You saw how they reacted when you found that lipstick on my collar…"

Murdock smiled, "That's a good song."

"What?"

"_Lipstick On Your Collar_," Murdock searched his head for the lyrics.

Hannibal rolled his eyes and walked away to the door, "Unbelievable."

Following him, Murdock called to him, "Don't worry about it, boss. My lips are sealed."

"And if they aren't, I'll seal them for you," Hannibal pulled Murdock's baseball cap over his eyes and then went out to find their van. Murdock led him to the van, opened the back and jumped in after Hannibal.

Face looked in the rearview mirror, "What were you doing here, Hannibal?"

"None of your business, kid."

B.A. laughed, "None of your business infers a lot."

"He was visiting Tommy Barrett," Murdock said. "You know, old Tommy."

"Oh, yeah! How's Tommy doing?" Face smiled as the car drove off.

Hannibal gave Murdock a grin, "Tommy's great."

_End Flashback _

It was midnight at Polly's house. Polly, Face, B.A., and Hannibal had all gone to sleep. But Francesca and Murdock were sitting on the floor of the living room. Francesca had a bottle of red nail polish open and she was holding onto foot, trying to steady herself. Murdock was eating popcorn from a plastic bowl and looking through the iTunes account on the Apple computer.

"Let's play truth or dare," Francesca looked up at him and closed the nail polish.

"Yeah!" Murdock nodded. "Okay, truth or dare."

"Truth," Francesca smiled. "I love truths."

Murdock thought quickly, "Craziest place you've had sex?"

"Tie between an elevator and a hotel pool," Francesca leaned back on the couch. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," Murdock drawled.

Francesca leaned forward, "Okay."

They went on with this game for awhile. Later, Murdock asked the repetitive question, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What is your deepest, darkest secret?" Murdock leaned forward, excited.

For a moment, Francesca hesitated. "You promise not to tell a single soul."

Murdock held out his pinky, "Pinky promise."

Francesca and Murdock locked their pinkies together for a moment. "I have a lot of secrets… But I guess…" she trailed off. "I have never told anyone this, but there was a short time when I thought I was pregnant with Hannibal's child."

A silence fell over them. Murdock gaped, "No."

Francesca nodded.

"No way," Murdock's eyes were huge.

"Don't say anything," she lowered her voice. "Hannibal doesn't even know that."

"When did this happen?"

She blushed, "I found out that I wasn't right before you found out about the affair."

"Wow," Murdock couldn't think of anything to say.

"I know," she rested her head in her hands. "I know."

He leaned forward, "Well, don't be embarrassed."

"It's so embarrassing," she groaned.

Murdock tried to comfort her for a little while longer before deciding to go to bed. Francesca was more than happy to have him leave. She began to cry to herself, not of embarrassment, but of what had happened in her life and what could have happened. She went to the piano and started playing. The music erased all her thoughts.

Francesca played until morning.

At six o'clock, Hannibal woke up and came slowly out into the hallway. He looked from the upstairs. He saw Francesca wearing a robe, her hair loose and free, and her hands moving across the piano, playing a quiet tune. There was smoke around her from the cigarette she held in her hand. A dismantled smoke detector lay on the piano. He walked down toward her.

Francesca heard him coming, but decided to ignore it.

"Have you been down here all night?" Hannibal asked.

"I couldn't sleep," she stopped playing for a moment and stared straight ahead.

He came up behind her, "May I sit?"

"Of course," Francesca took a drag on the cigarette.

Hannibal sat beside her, his legs draped over the other side of the piano bench. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Francesca looked at him from the corner of her eye, wearily. Her eyes widened, "How long have you been bleeding?"

Looking down, Hannibal saw a bloodstain on the light brown shirt he was wearing, "Oh, I didn't even notice."

Francesca lifted his shirt to expose his chest. She took a moment to look at his wondrous muscles, but then looked at the gash. "It's not too bad. Here," she got up and went into the kitchen.

"I'm fine," he frowned looking at it.

She returned with some bandages, a cotton ball, and a bottle of medicinal alcohol. "Did you sleep well?" she poured the alcohol onto the cotton ball.

Hannibal shrugged, "Sort of."

"This may sting," she put the cotton ball to his chest, leaning into him.

He looked down at her. She was so close to him. He could feel her breath on his chest. "You have a plan?"

Francesca paused and pulled back quickly, "Yes, I have a plan."

"Good," he said simply.

Francesca put a bandage on the wound, "There." She traced her hand down his chest and finally rested it on the piano bench.

Hannibal didn't reply, breathing heavily. He inclined his body toward her.

Putting her hands on his shoulders, Francesca tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

"Good morning!" Polly called from the top of the stairs.

Francesca pushed herself away from Hannibal and looked back to the piano, "Good morning."

"Do I smell smoke? Francesca, are you smoking?"


	13. Chapter 13: Mambo Italiano

**Happy 2011! Wanted to give you a chapter for the new year, so here it is. I apologize for any flaws in the Italian translations during the flashbacks. Please keep reading, please review, favorite, and subscribe!**

**Also, if you're a fan of the TV show House, I have another fanfiction I am writing called Rosie. Take a look!**

**DG**

Francesca looked back at Polly and took another drag on the cigarette.

"Francesca…" Polly started to scold her.

"Relax," Francesca got up.

"I need your measurements, dear."

"Me?"

Polly shrugged, "I don't know if you've changed much in the last four years."

"Awesome," she replied.

Hannibal was still sitting on the piano bench watching Francesca walk into the kitchen and start to make some coffee. He wondered what her plan was and thought about how close he'd come to kissing her.

"The boys are sleeping?" Francesca asked Polly.

"I didn't check but I believe so. Except for Hannibal of course," Polly laughed.

She simply nodded and sat back down at the piano beside Hannibal. She started playing again.

"So did you guys get back together or something?" Polly asked.

Francesca, shocked by what she said, played a wrong chord on the piano, "No."

Hannibal hung his head and covered his eyes, "Definitely not."

"Oh," Polly looked surprised. "Hm."

"We were never _together _Polly," Francesca got up to pour the coffee. "Strictly sex."

Polly rolled her eyes, "Francesca. Have you had a serious relationship in the past ten years?"

"Polly…" she glanced back at Hannibal who was listening intently.

"Answer the question."

Francesca poured the coffee, "Two."

"Two! And you never brought one of them to meet me," Polly reprimanded.

Brushing her hair back, she looked to Hannibal who had a small smirk on his face, "Don't worry. You wouldn't have liked them anyway."

She poured another cup for Hannibal and went into the refrigerator for milk. She put in a small amount slowly handed it to Hannibal who gave her a small smile, "Thanks."

"No problem," Francesca took a sip of her own.

"How much does she know?" Hannibal gestured toward Polly who was beginning to make breakfast.

Francesca sighed, "Everything. Almost everything."

"You're kidding me," Hannibal frowned.

"Calm down, she knows how to keep a secret," she flashed him a grin. "Like Murdock."

_Flashback_

Francesca was walking down the street. Her time off had been wonderful. Two entire weeks off had been just the kind of thing she needed. So she had packed up and flown to Italy for the week. She had indulged in Italian food, new friends, the finest fashions, but she didn't look at another man. Despite all the attractive Italians, she didn't flirt with them or have too intimate of a conversation with them. She made her way down the street, lowering her sunglasses. All of a sudden, she bumped into someone. A bunch of papers scattered the ground. She took of her sunglasses, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

The man had black curly air and dark brown eyes, "It's no problem."

"Let me help you," she bent over and started to pick up some of the papers.

"Oh, thank you very much," he beamed at her with perfectly white teeth.

Francesca handed him the papers, "No problem."

"Are you from America?" the man asked her.

She nodded worriedly, "Yes, yes I am."

"Maybe you'd like some Italian company to show you around to the secret sights. What do you say?" he started to give her the once over.

"Oh," Francesca paused. "I'm really not in the position to do that."

He frowned, "Pardon me?"

"Well, I have a- a significant other," Francesca smiled to herself. "But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it."

The man's smile returned, "Well. Well alright."

Francesca started to walk away, "Thanks again."

"No thank you," he bowed his head and backed away.

Francesca walked across the street toward an outdoor market. She was renting a beach house and decided that she'd finally try a recipe that a local woman had given her.

"Buongiorno," an older man called to her from behind the produce.

"Buongirono," she smiled back. "Come stai?"

"Meravigliosa, e voi?" he replied.

Francesca nodded, "Favoloso."

"Americano?" he inquired.

"Si… yes," she grinned.

He had a heavy Italian accent and gray mustache, "What's your name?"

"Francesca," she blushed.

"Ah, a nice Italian name. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Well, actually I'm planning on making my own Italian cuisine for dinner tonight. So I have a list," she said. "I have it right here," she shuffled through her purse. "Somewhere."

"Are you here with anyone?" the man raised an eyebrow.

Francesca looked up, "No, why?"

"Because there is a man down there looking at you," he pointed down the sidewalk. "I don't know if you know him."

Francesca rolled her eyes, smiling and then looked down the street. The man was quite far down. She narrowed her eyes and then gaped, "No. No way."

"You do know him then," the man laughed.

Giggling, Francesca turned down the road, "Yes, I do. I'll be back in a moment." She started to walk down the street toward the man, "Hi, stranger."

"I thought that was you," the man looked at her, grinning.

"How are you, John?" Francesca smiled.

"Well, now I'm great," Hannibal stepped closer to her.

She pulled her bag closer to her side, "Are you alone?"

"Well, I'm actually working, but yeah," he inspected her. She was tan, her hair a little blonder, and she was wearing a sundress. She looked striking.

"You're working?" she asked, saddened.

Hannibal crossed his arms, "The boys are finishing up some work. I'm just around."

Francesca pursed her lips in a smile. She kissed him firmly on the lips. After she pulled away, she took his hands in her own, "Come on. Let's have some fun."

"I might be pulled away at any moment," he moaned.

"Who cares? I have two more days here. And now that you're here…" Francesca led him by the hand back to the man at the produce. "Sono tornata," she said to the man.

"Ah…" he raised an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend?"

Francesca looked up at Hannibal, "Oh, no. Just a close friend."

"What's your name?" he looked to Hannibal.

"I'm John," Hannibal met the man's gaze.

"Aha," he nodded. "Cosa stai cercando?" he directed the question at Francesca.

She opened her purse again, "Um…" she found the list quickly. "Quattro pomodori…" Francesca listed off the ingredients quickly.

"I didn't know you knew Italian," Hannibal whispered in her ear as the man helped her acquire everything she needed.

Francesca brushed her hair from her face, "My dad's mom was Italian and she made it a point for me and Tommy to learn," she cleared her throat and mocked her older grandma, "_The language of your people_."

Hannibal laughed, "It's come in handy, then."

"I guess so," Francesca laughed, accepting the basket of goods from the man. "Grazie," she handed him the money she owed and took Hannibal's hand again. "I'm going to cook you a real Italian dinner tonight."

They started to walk away down the street as he replied, "I haven't had a home cooked meal in ages."

"I know," she smiled. "I'd invite the boys, but then…"

"It gets complicated," he finished her sentence. "Besides, it's just you and me today."

Francesca's heart leapt into her throat, "You're right."

Francesca and Hannibal walked down to the fish market, laughing and talking. Once they got there, three younger men automatically let their eyes gravitate toward Francesca. Hannibal felt so uncomfortable at that point he could hardly stand it. Francesca noticed automatically and began to blush incessantly. "Ciao, tesoro," one of them whistled to her.

"Ciao," Francesca rolled her eyes.

The second held up a gloved hand and pointed, "Bel culo."

"Andare via!" Francesca shouted back, holding up her middle finger.

"Oh, mi piacciono esuberante," another laughed.

Francesca looked to Hannibal and touched his arm, "Give me a moment." She began to walk away, but Hannibal grabbed her arm, "What's going on?"

Sighing, Francesca held out her hands, "I'll give you a play by play. He said 'Hello sweetheart' and I said hello back. But then that one in the worn overalls mumbled, 'nice ass' and I flipped him off. Then that one just said 'I like them feisty' and now I'm gonna lose it." She walked away, but Hannibal stuck behind to watch and be there just in case. In truth, he knew exactly what she was saying, but he thought he'd play with her for a little.

Approaching them, she held up a finger to them, "Guarda, potrei citare in giudizo per molestie sessuali."

_Look, I could sue you for sexual harassment. _

"Non sembra che tu abbia male a una mosca," the first clucked.

_You don't look like you could harm a fly. _

Francesca was absolutely fuming, she grabbed his collar, "Bite me." She dropped him and turned to walk away.

The man stopped her, touching her neck, "Non devi scappare."

_Don't run away._

Hannibal pushed Francesca out of the way and pinned the man against the wall, "Non ti azzardare a toccare il suo."

_Don't you dare touch her._

The men around him started to loosen his grasp on their friend.

Hannibal let him fall to the ground, "Buona giornata, gentiluomo." He turned back to Francesca who stood there with a small smile, "You know Italian too."

He touched her shoulder, Yes, I do."

"Thank you for doing that. That was very sweet," she looked down at the ground and pulled some hair from her face.

"That sounds promising," he slipped his arm around her and started to bring her forward.

Francesca raised her eyebrows, "Perhaps."

"Excuse me," a man appeared in front of them. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but watch what happened over there. Are you both alright?"

"Oh, thank you, but they were just harassing this young woman and I thought justice should be served," Hannibal pulled her closer to him.

Francesca nodded, "Yes, we're both fine."

"I apologize for the inconvenience. Here, your purchase is complementary," the man said, obviously a manager or owner.

She smiled sympathetically, "Well, thank you very much."

The manager rushed off and Hannibal and Francesca looked at one another. "You got some free fish out of this," Hannibal shrugged. "That's cool."

Francesca frowned, "I'd rather not be harassed."

"I… apologize," he shook his head.

Francesca put her arm through his, "I'm not mad, I'm tired of all of these guys. They're gross."

_All of these guys…_Hannibal thought to himself.

They made their way through the market, checking off the list as they went. When they were finished, Francesca stopped him, "Let's go stop at my place, put these ingredients away and then… I'll take you around my Italia."

"Sounds like a plan," Hannibal winked and wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing the side of her head.

_End Flashback_

Francesca had gone back to the piano. "Where are these guys?" she growled. "It's already seven."

"I don't even start my plans that early," Hannibal replied.

"You operate the way you operate, and I operate the way I operate," she replied, sarcastically polite. She opened a songbook on the book rest for the piano, turning the pages quickly. "Here we are," she started to play and sing, belting out the notes so even the neighbors could here them. "_Good mornin', good mornin'. We've talked the whole night through. Good mornin', good mornin' to you._"

"Who is playing this early in the morning?" B.A. groaned, trudging down the stairs.

"Who else?" Hannibal laughed.

Francesca continued, looking back at B.A., "_Good mornin', good mornin'. It's great to stay up late. Good mornin', good mornin' to you._"

"Francesca!" Face yelled down the steps. "What the hell!"

"_When-_" Francesca began.

Face interrupted, "Oh, shut up.

"You're just jealous," Francesca stopped playing. "Now, where's my favorite?"

"Here he is!" Murdock slid down the banister and flashed a grin.

Getting up, Francesca went to help Polly in the kitchen, "So boys, please sit down on the couch."

They all sat down. Hannibal came around to the back of the couch and leaned over. Francesca came in with a stack of manila folders, tossing one to each boy, "Here's the scoop."

"Edward McDonald the third?" Face raised an eyebrow.

"For now," Francesca lowered her eyes. "Murdock and I did research last night. I did some analyzing of the paper, concluded it's from a non-American source, but was handled by an American. Therefore, something is going on within the American system. A deal under the table."

"But why do they want us involved?" Face frowned.

"Well, I'm going to tell you. We've been attacked by several different people. Most, if not all, are in a conspiracy against the United States government."

"How'd you figure that out?" B.A. questioned, unsure of her sources.

Francesca grinned, "That's where the real genius comes in. This sheet of paper," she held out the letter acquired from her earlier attacker. "This sheet has an encrypted code on the back. It's basically being tracked. However, it takes a skilled hacker to understand that if something is being tracked, there are ways to find who is tracking it. I was able to figure out that this belongs to a banking company, located in Southern Mongolia. I use the term banking very loosely. These people have insiders in the US government who steal millions of dollars dedicated to spending bills."

"How is that money not missed?" Face leaned forward, folding his hands.

"Wait to react," Francesca held out her hands. "The money is replaced with counterfeit bills. However, the money stolen from the government is being sent to this bank, which is then loaned out to countries in cahoots against the United States."

The four men were silent. Murdock had a big smile pasted on his face. Francesca brought her hands down, "You can react now."

"Are you _shitting _me?" Face stood up.

Francesca shook her head, "I am not shitting you."

"Are there more engraving plates?" B.A. clenched his knuckles.

Francesca pointed to him, "Bingo!"

Hannibal shook his head, "Impossible."

"Not when you've had people working on this for twenty years," Francesca crossed her arms.

Polly leaned out to look through the door, "Breakfast time!"

"Excellent," Francesca clapped her hands. "After breakfast, we work."

Murdock was the only one that got up and followed her into the kitchen. The others stood their in astonishment and dismay. Francesca popped her head back into the room, "Oh my God, get over it already."

Hannibal looked to her, "Do you not get it? We've spent the past seven months on this damn thing and now you're telling me that it's not over?"

Francesca swallowed, "It's only just begun."

"This is the reason that we are convicts, Francesca."

"Good, then it gives you a second chance, doesn't it? A third chance, actually," Francesca spat. "Don't play dumb. It's the only motive that makes sense." She glanced over at the other boys, "Do you guys want coffee, juice, or milk?"

Face took a deep breath, "Skim milk?"

Francesca smiled, "Of course."


	14. Chapter 14: Arguments

Hannibal was the only one left in the living room. He was so upset and so aggravated that it took all his strength to not start shouting swear words and blow his brains out. It was too much.

In the other room he could hear the others laughing and talking. Francesca was retreating back to the kitchen to do some cooking.

"Francesca," he said slowly.

She looked over at him, cracking an egg over a pan, "Yes?"

"If the paper is being tracked, what are we going to do when people show up for it?" he walked into the kitchen.

"I deactivated it, of course," Francesca opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of orange juice. "Hannibal, it'll be fine. We'll be able to handle it."

Hannibal sighed, "It's not that I think we won't be able to handle it. I'm just…"

"You're tired of it. I know," she stopped moving. "You think it's over and it's not. I know that so well. But when you escape from jail and you get involved in this sort of stuff you should expect it."

He didn't reply. He simply nodded.

"Now, what do you want to drink?" Francesca smiled.

Hannibal grunted, "Coffee. Coffee is fine."

She nodded, "Go sit down."

He followed her instructions and walked calmly into the dining room. Polly was handing out plates, Face had his feet up on the table, trying to relax, Murdock had his cap pulled over his eyes, and B.A. was trying to find another knuckle to crack on his hand. Hannibal sat down at the head out the table and looked at face, "Kid, get your feet off the table."

Face did as he was told, smiling meekly.

"Murdock…" Face scolded, pointing to his hat.

Murdock took off his hat and sat up a little straighter, "Yes, quite right, my good man. Lord Baracus, please get your elbows off the table."

The others laughed while B.A. growled under his breath, "I'm gonna kill you."

Polly clasped her hands together and smiled, "I have eggs, bacon, oatmeal, fruit, grits-"

"Grits! I haven't had grits in ages," Murdock threw his cap up in the air and caught it.

"We like the southern cooking here in my house," Polly chortled.

Francesca looked on from the kitchen. She could see Hannibal facing her at the head of the table. He had a grin on his face and was pulling a cigar out of his pocket. Then, Hannibal frowned, looking down in his lap. Francesca knew exactly what he was looking for. She walked into the dining room and pulled a lighter from her robe pocket. She flicked it on, holding it out to him. Seeing her, Hannibal's frown turned into a faint smirk.

_Flashback_

Francesca led Hannibal into the house. He stopped in the foyer, staring at the house. He was able to see across the house and out the tall windows at the other side. Through the windows, there was a beautiful view of the ocean. "Nice place," he said following her into the kitchen.

She had already started putting some of the ingredients away. Nodding, Francesca replied, "I know. So calm and quiet. That's what I've needed."

He went over to help her, "A lot of work lately?"

"So much," Francesca stopped and sighed.

Hannibal laughed, "What have you been up to?"

"Well," Francesca got a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water. "I've been doing a ton of field work. Flying to Iraq, India, Russia, Canada, Iceland… to name a few. So much espionage! So much terrorism! But someone has to take care of it. Might as well be me. I'm competing for a promotion.

"I didn't think you could compete for a higher position, considering it's all based on merit," Hannibal frowned.

Francesca reddened and tried to amend her statement, "I mean, it's not a competition, but all of us make it out to be that way. Nobody seems to stop us as long as we get the work done. It's a way to prove ourselves. And I've been doing all of this extra work to prove that I have no problem killing a man with my bare hands or that I'm immune to the schemes of handsome men."

"I'm sure you don't have a problem with the first one," he chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes, "Ha. Ha. Very funny."

He leaned on the counter, "Come on. You're very dedicated and it seems that you don't back down to a challenge. You're a shoe-in."

"Some people don't want to give me the time of day, John," Francesca stared off into space, putting the glass onto the counter.

At that moment, she looked so helpless and vulnerable. Hannibal smiled and put his hands on both of her cheeks, "But I will."

Francesca felt her heart beat more quickly. She couldn't help it. She didn't care if it was just sex or whatever. Throwing her arms around his neck, Francesca whispered, "You know, you might be an army ranger, but underneath that rough exterior, you're really a sweetheart."

"No I'm not," he let his head fall back.

"Yes, you are!" she pulled back a little, giggling.

Hannibal looked into her eyes and gave her a promiscuous look. Suddenly he pulled her off the ground and growled, "Where's the bedroom?"

"Up the stairs, you big lug," Francesca clung onto him for dear life, but burst into hysterics.

He carried her up the stairs and pushed open the door to her bedroom. There was a king bed with white sheets, windows overlooking the waterfront that also led to a balcony, and a mirrored closet. Hannibal dropped her on the bed. Francesca cackled and reached up for him.

"So this is your Italia?" he made his way up the bed toward her.

Shaking her head, Francesca kissed him deeply and then touched his chest, "No, this is _your _Italia, bastardo pazzo."

Hannibal laughed at her. They kissed passionately for awhile. Hannibal ran his hands up her sides, feeling the curves of her waist. There was a faint ringing that distracted him. Francesca pulled away from the kiss, "I have to get that."

"No you don't," he forced her back down.

"Yes, I do," she kissed him once more.

Despite his wishes, Hannibal let her slip out from beneath him and then collapsed on the bed. Francesca stood in the doorway, popping her foot up flirtatiously, "I won't be long."

Hannibal lay on her bed for a little bit and then glanced at the side table. There was something that appeared to be a plastic box. He rolled over to it and picked it up. It rattled when he shook it. He quickly realized that it was a pill box. Shrugging, he opened it. Inside, there was a row of pills or vitamins. Something, however, disturbed him. It was Friday, but there appeared to be one pill left in every day before it and three in Saturday and Sunday.

He sat up, frowning. Francesca appeared again in the doorway, "Sorry, that was To-" She crossed her arms, "What are you doing?"

"What is this pill for?" Hannibal held it up to her.

"Oh," Francesca shrugged and went into the bathroom adjoined to the bathroom. "It's birth control."

"You're not taking your birth control?" he looked to her.

She had started to take off her dress, but she speedily slipped the straps back up, "No, I have not been."

"Why, may I ask?" Hannibal closed the box and got off the bed.

"I haven't needed it," Francesca looked at him, confused.

He gasped, "You haven't been having sex with anyone while you've been here?"

"I'm not that big of a slut, John," Francesca put her hands on her hips.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking this regularly?"

She scoffed, "Yeah, so?"

Hannibal crossed his arms, "So that you don't get pregnant."

Francesca glowered, "And to coordinate with that the man is supposed to wear a- say it with me- condom."

"Well, I don't have one, so you should take this," he threw the box to her.

She didn't even bother to catch it. It just fell to the ground, "I'm not going to take it."

Hannibal gawked at her, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Is there a point to this? Are you trying to get pregnant?"

"That's not my point. My point is that you can't depend on the woman to try and prevent herself from getting pregnant. That's not how it works. It takes two to tango, two to play checkers, and two to create life," Francesca explicated. There was a beat and she continued, "Unless you're asexual. _That _would be a feat."

They stared at one another for a long time. Hannibal started laughing, "Okay. Okay, you're right."

Francesca smiled smugly, "I know I'm right."

_End Flashback_

Francesca sat down at the table with her own plate. Polly was across from her, smiling and chatting with the boys. "Francesca came home at four in the morning and tried to tell me she had car trouble," she explained.

"Oookay," Francesca picked up her plate and walked back into the kitchen.

"Oh, Checka sit back down," Polly called.

"If you're going to talk about my teenage escapades, then I'm not sticking around," Francesca sighed.

Face urged her to sit, "Sit with us, eat with us, let us laugh at you."

She glared at him and smacked him in the back of the head.

"Ow!" he rubbed his hair.

"You were asking for that, man," B.A. chuckled.

She sat down despite her better judgment. Polly continued, "Of course that doesn't compare to the time she came home wasted and tried to convince me she had epilepsy. I almost believed her until she vomited in my lap."

Francesca dropped her fork and sank into her chair. Murdock laughed, "Hey, little lady, we've all been there."

"No, definitely not," she covered her face. "Definitely not."

Hannibal stared at Francesca with a funny grin on his face.

Polly smirked, "But the best was the time-"

"Hey, Polly. Do you remember that time when you were having sex with the mail man in Mary's bedroom? Or the time you accidentally ate our pot brownies and you walked around the house naked for three days?" Francesca picked up her glass of orange juice and grinned.

Everyone was quiet for a little bit. Polly was on the verge of a crazy fit of giggling. Francesca laughed first and everyone followed. Murdock was almost falling out of his chair.

"Fair enough, young grasshopper," Polly smiled.

Francesca finished in a hurry and cleaned her plate off quietly. "Let's do some work guys."

Polly followed her, "I'm going to the fabric store, so are you guys going to be alright here?"

Nodding, Francesca turned to her guardian, "Yeah, I'm going to go out and get some parts for this and I'll probably take one of the boys with me."

"Alright. I'd take that one Face if I were you," Polly murmured, laughing.

"Yeah, I knew you would," Francesca pursed her lips.

Face turned from the table, "Um… I can hear you."

"No you can't," Francesca raised her eyebrows. "Can you Face?"

He began to speak, but Hannibal beat him, "You can't hear her." He shook his head slowly.

Francesca grinned and looked back at Polly, "Okay, get going."

"Bye, love," Polly kissed her cheek.

After Polly left, Francesca turned, "Face get ready, we're going to the store." He didn't respond. "Face…Face!"

"I can't hear her," he looked to Hannibal.


	15. Chapter 15: Careless Whisper

Face and Francesca walked down the aisles of a nearby supermarket called _Bev's Groceries_. Every store around was named after someone. Face shrugged it off, realizing that the small town persona really held here.

"So… Polly said that she's kind of your guardian or something like that," Face broke the silence.

Francesca stopped in front of a row of bottles and began to scan the shelves, "Yeah, she really is. Do you see any liquid latex?"

Face wasn't listening, "Did you like living with Polly?"

"Of course, what girl doesn't want to live with her best friend?" Francesca glanced at Face.

He smiled, "I guess."

"I mean," she frowned. "That's not to say that I was completely happy. My life has been a roller coaster."

"Yeah, Polly said that as well," Face started to look at a few bottles.

Francesca raised an eyebrow and picked up the liquid latex, "And she only knows the half of it."

"Pardon me?"

"Um. Nothing, look let's just not talk about it, okay?" Francesca bit her lip, walking off down the aisle.

"Wait!" Face quickly caught up to her. "W-what do you mean she only knows the half of it?"

Francesca turned sharply to look at him, "We are not going to talk about it. Is that clear?"

"No," he shook his head. "We are going to talk about it."

She laughed cynically, "Why should I talk to you? You were the one who thought I was trying to lead you guys back to prison."

He threw his hand up, "Forget it. That's gone. Talk to me." He gave her a lady killer look with his big blue eyes.

"Goddamn you and your stupid…" she trailed off and shoved her hand in his face. "Your stupid face."

Face shrugged, "That's my name."

Francesca rolled her eyes, "What do you want to know?"

"I just want to know about you. What's happened to you in the past?"

Pursing her lips, she thought for a moment, "Fine. Fine." They walked down the aisle and she spoke quietly and sullenly, "My tragic tale of heartbreak starts at seven. My father left us. I guess I didn't really understand the situation, so it wasn't bad until my mom started to have to work really late and she wasn't around often. Tommy took care of me. He was only twelve. And my mom passed when I was a teenager. Tommy was gone and I lived with Polly and Mary. Those years were some of the best of my life. So I immersed myself in work…" They stopped in front of a makeup display. She started to shuffle through foundations. "I dated, not well, but I did. I had a lot of one night stands and then…" she stopped. "Look. This is a really touchy subject for me and I hate talking about it so just be quiet for it."

Face didn't speak, but nodded.

"When I was twenty-five or so I met this guy who was not looking for a relationship. And I didn't really care. We were both single, wanted some sex, so that was our relationship. Every so often we'd take ten minutes and just go at it. Wherever, whenever. It wasn't until I- well after a certain incident-"

He went back on his promise, "What does that mean?"

"I'm not going to tell you any more if you interrupt me," she held a case of foundation toward his face.

"Well, I just want all the details."

"You're lucky I'm even telling you this," she scowled. "Anyway, after awhile I fell in love with him. So each encounter grew into a more intimate adventure and time after time I wanted to tell him, but I knew it would screw everything up. So," she took a few cases of the foundation and threw it into the basket. "One day it just slipped out. And he ran the other way. Left me. I screwed it up," Francesca shrugged. "That was that."

Face smiled, "That's a lot."

"Yeah. I wasted two and a half years on that guy and he just takes off," Francesca growled, turning into a new aisle. "And my life hasn't got much better other than being promoted."

"Oh?"

She picked up a bottle of Vodka, "I mean not specific events. I turned thirty. That sucked."

Laughing, Face replied, "Life happens."

"Mmm, if only," she led him to the cash register. "If life was happening for me I would not be here right now. I thought that by now I'd be married, have some kids, be living in a perfect white house with a picket fence in a nice neighborhood and every so often go to a PTA meeting. Or at least have a domestic partner, a dog, and live in a cozy apartment." She paused, "With a dog."

Face smiled at her as she lowered her head, "The sex was good at least?"

"Simply inspired," Francesca looked off into space, a wistful smile on her face.

_Flashback_

Francesca led Hannibal down a side street to a small restaurant. It seemed quite busy, but Francesca pushed her way through the crowds and into a backroom that led to a patio. There were two people standing and looking over the patio at the slight view of the ocean.

"Ciao!" Francesca called to the two people.

They both turned. They were older women who were wrinkled from the sun. One grinned, "Francesca, la mia bella ragazza."

"Zita, Isidora," she gestured back to Hannibal. "This is John."

"An American?" the other stepped forward.

"Well, yeah," Francesca went toward them. "Why?"

Zita, the shorter of the two spoke, "I just thought that you being a very young beautiful young lady that you'd be sampling the Italian… uh…"

"I don't keep my legs spread all that often," Francesca laughed and sat at the table.

Isidora examined Hannibal, but quickly turned back to Francesca, "Everyone's been looking forward to seeing you. I'm going to go get them."

She slipped past the towering man, almost frightened at his stature. He chuckled to himself.

"John, sit down," Francesca pulled a cigarette from her purse.

Zita put her hand into the purse, "Give me one."

Leaning back, Francesca replied, "Relax, I have enough."

Hannibal came toward the table and sat beside Francesca.

"Checka!" a juvenile voice called from behind.

"Cece!" Francesca took a drag on her cigarette before standing again. She turned to find a little girl with dark brown hair and bright eyes, "Dove Giuseppe?"

Hannibal watched from afar as Francesca tended to the little girl. They embraced and then Francesca picked her up, singing a tune with the little girl. Zita interrupted his thoughts, "So, John? You are with Francesca, yes?"

"No, we are just friends," he took a cigar from his pocket.

"And you both smoke!" Zita closed her eyes. "We've been trying to get her to quit. We love her to much. And now you."

"Have you known Francesca long?" Hannibal smoked the cigar proudly.

Zita nodded, "She's been coming here since she was eighteen."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, she's like part of the family," Zita smiled, looking back at Francesca and Cece. Cece screeched loudly as Francesca scooped her back into her arms upside down. The little girl looked at Hannibal in an odd manner from her position, "Chi è che, Francesca?"

Francesca turned back to look at Hannibal, "Molto stretto amico mio, mio piccolo amore."

Hannibal took in the words. _A very close friend of mine, my little love_. The girl continued to inspect him, wriggling out of Francesca's arms to walk up to him. He leaned forward.

Cece frowned, "Si guarda molto più Checka."

_You look much older than Checka_.

He laughed, "Ecco perché io sono."

_That's because I am_.

Zita cackled, "You don't look terribly old."

"But I look terribly young, don't I, Zita?" Francesca tossed her hair and came over to Hannibal. She gave him a seductive glance and then looked back at Zita, "Well?"

"Don't get smart with me," Zita stood up, taking Cece's hand. "We'll be back, shortly."

After they had left, Francesca silently sat down beside Hannibal and smiled at him. "You look handsome today," she closed her eyes in a lazy fashion. "You always do."

"Well, I don't try very hard."

"I know, but," her eyes shot open. "An army ranger always is attractive because… well… he's strong and so…Yum."

"Great description," Hannibal sighed with a small chuckle.

Francesca licked her lips, "Take a compliment."

"Silly, silly girl," he said quietly.

Francesca didn't reply. She sat up and leaned toward him with a small smile on her face. Stopping just centimeters from him, she whispered, "Why am I silly?"

"For… for hanging around me," Hannibal grinned in a funny manner.

"I don't think I'm silly. I'm adventurous," she giggled and then kissed him on the lips. When she broke away from the kiss, she smiled, "You're the silly one.

He raised an eyebrow, "And why is that?"

"Tommy could easily kill you for sleeping with me. Of course, I don't want to spur you away from this lovely affair. I'm having fun with our occasional romps."

"Stop talking," he laughed.

Francesca put her finger to her lips and gave a little 'sh'. Then, she leaned into him, running her hands up his chest. She pressed her lips against his ear, "So we're just friends."

Hannibal was confused. He didn't understand what she was saying or the message that she had tired to get across. But none the less, he enjoyed her soft touch and her warm breath. After she pulled away, she flashed him a smile, "We'll stay here for a little bit, go around the city, go back to my place, make some dinner, perhaps eat it if we're not too hungry for dessert…" Francesca laughed a little and bit her lip.

"You're being really ditzy right now," Hannibal inspected her stance.

"But you like it, huh?" Francesca said in a blatant voice.

_End Flashback_

"We're back!" Francesca and Face walked into the house to find Murdock reading more of his report.

"Hello!" he looked up, grinning.

"How are you guys holding up?" Francesca leaned over Murdock.

He smiled, "Fine."

"Where is everyone?" Face joined Francesca.

"Polly is upstairs sewing, B.A. is creating some mass destruction, and Hannibal… I don't know where Hannibal is, actually,"

Francesca smiled, "Alright, well I'm going to go do some work in the kitchen."

She went to work, making molds and creating the prosthetics they would need. Face followed her into the kitchen, "Need any help?"

"No, what I need you to do is-" she continued on a list of things that needed to be done.

Face listened intently, watching her bright eyes waver in the light of the kitchen.

Hannibal entered midway through her list. She glanced over at him and smiled. When she had finished, Face replied, "That's _all _you want me to do?"

She laughed, "Yes, that's all. You could enlist one of the boys to help out."

"Alright, I suppose," Face groaned.

Francesca smiled, "Come on, be a sport."

Hannibal observed them quietly, his head in turmoil. What was happening between the two in front of him? The animosity had disappeared almost completely. He didn't understand their giggles and punches.

"Alright, Hannibal! Wanna do some stuff for me?" Face waggled his eyebrows.

"_With _you," Francesca hissed.

"With me?" Face corrected.

Francesca and Face. It seemed like a little celebrity couple or something. Frace, Fancesca. Hannibal's eyes darted between them. Both looked worriedly back. "Hannibal?" Francesca stopped working.

"Boss, you okay?" Face laughed slightly in the uncomfortable moment.

Hannibal shook his head, "Fine." He turned and walked out the backdoor.

Face and Francesca exchanged a glance. Pursing her lips, Francesca walked outside, "Hey!" A strong breeze gave Francesca a shock, "What's going on?"

He turned back to her, eyes narrow, "Nothing."

"What're you talking about? You look like you're about to succumb to the plague or something."

Hannibal sighed, "I'm fine, okay?"

She followed him around the side of the house where it seemed that he had set up a small workshop for assembling weapons where B.A. was lounging. B.A. suddenly perked up, "Hey, Francesca."

"Hi," she turned to him and then back to Hannibal. "This isn't helping anyone."

"What isn't helping anyone?" Hannibal looked to her with a frown.

"Your bad attitude!"

B.A. held up a hand, "That's my job."

"Shut up," Francesca glared.

"You seem to be taking everything so lightly, it just is so frustrating. I-I don't understand you like I used to," he said, stuttering.

Francesca became quiet, lowering her eyes. B.A. raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"I've changed a lot, Hannibal."

B.A. stood up, "What the hell is going on here? Are you guys having a moment or something?"

Hannibal shook his head, "You should've seen her with Face earlier."

"Oh my God," Francesca screeched. "Unbelievable!"

"Woah," B.A. stepped away.

"I mean, it's clear that there is-"

Francesca turned and began to walk away, "I am _not _going to deal with this. I am _not _going to listen to you rant about what I can and cannot do because I am my own person."

"Sure you are, you've got Polly! How could you have survived without Polly? Or your dead grandmother's house or your stupid agency car, sobbing about your brother's cancer and how you don't have anyone else-" Hannibal stopped midsentence, realizing what he was saying.

Francesca had no expression her face. Her eyes were wide, her lips sealed together. She turned quickly and went back into the house, rushing past Face and Murdock who both looked at her.

"Francesca, I was thinking about the-" Face began, but stopped when she didn't turn back. "Francesca!" he ran to the foot of the staircase.

Murdock turned to the kitchen to see Hannibal running through. He looked at him and shook his head. Hannibal sighed, walking to the stairs and climbing them. Face followed, "What happened?"

"Nothing," he was quiet as he watched her walk into a room at the end of the hallway. He rushed to try and grab it before she could lock the door, but no such luck. He slammed his hands down on the door, "Francesca."

Francesca leaned back on the door, tears pouring from her eyes. She slid down the door and buried her face in her hands.

Hannibal could here her crying. He dropped his hands and took a deep breath. Face stood next to him, "What the hell did you do to her?"

_A lot more than you know_, Hannibal thought.


	16. Chapter 16: Surprise Me Again

Francesca pulled out a light brown box from beneath the bed. She put it on her pink sheets and pushed some tears from her eyes. Jumping up on the bed, she opened the box and stared into the colorful mess.

She reached in and took out a photo.

The picture detailed a moment from six years ago. Six years ago when she was in love, footloose and fancy-free. Two smoke covered faces stared back at her with grins. It was herself and Hannibal. They both held a cigarette or cigar, respectively. He had his arm around her and all she could remember was the ecstasy of that.

Francesca growled at the picture, "You bastard." And then she ripped the picture in half and screamed nonsense. She lost her breath, tears falling faster down her cheeks. She choked out, "Bast…ard."

She let herself collapse on the bed, listening to the beat of Face, Murdock, and Hannibal pounding on her door.

Seven hours later, Francesca rose to find it dark outside her window. She heard a quiet tapping on her door, "_Grace Kelly, Harlow Jean, pictures of a beauty queen. Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire-_"

Francesca smiled meekly and rose from the bed. Opening the door, she rolled her eyes, "Who's singing _Vogue _outside my bedroom door?"

Murdock looked up at her from his cross legged position on the ground, "Hey! You came out. Finally."

"How long have you been out here?" she raised her eyebrows.

" Not long… two hours, tops," Murdock stood up.

Francesca sighed, "Oh, just two hours?"

"I'm very patient."

"Do you want to come in?" she touched the doorframe.

He smiled at her, "Yeah."

Francesca let him walk in and then shut the door behind them.

"So I heard what he said," Murdock's eyes gravitated toward the ripped picture. "And… you know he doesn't mean it."

She frowned, "Murdock, this would be necessary if I was dating him. Intervention isn't important."

"But…" he trailed off.

Francesca watched him go to the picture and pick up the pieces, "You're in love with him."

"And that would be a negative," she laughed awkwardly. "And this conversation is over."

"It's obvious."

"It would be if I was in love with him, but I am not."

"Look at you, brooding over a little comment."

"If you were put in my position you would brood as well."

Murdock went silent, "You've loved him for a long time and you want him to realize that. He told me about Face and his flirting."

"Well, maybe I like Face."

"But you don't, I mean… Face? Really?" Murdock scoffed.

Francesca shook her head, "Look, just leave."

"No!"

"Yes, leave! You're making this worse. Just worse," she lowered her head.

He was quiet and sat on the bed. "I'm not going."

"Yes you are!" she screeched and took his arm, yanking him up off the bed. "Please, I am not in the mood for you to be like this."

Murdock pulled back anxiously, "I think you may want to reassess the situation."

"Murdock, go make yourself useful. Go get drunk, eat a pint of ice cream, shave off B.A.'s Mohawk. I don't care," she pushed him out the door. "But of all of those things, leave me alone!"

Francesca slammed the door shut, sighing. She decided to get a shower, but stayed in the bath for about twenty minutes. When she got out, she dried off, and wrapped the towel around her. All she wanted was sleep and get away from her life for a bit. She looked at her reflection in the foggy mirror, touching her hairline. A few small red bumps had started forming. "I thought I was done with zits when I left high school," she smirked, then pulled some of her wet hair in front of the zits. Walking out of the bathroom adjoined to her bedroom, she hummed a succession of random notes and looked into her vanity mirror. She screamed at the reflection, "Face, what the fu-"

"Hey," Face grinned, reclining on her bed. "Caught you at a good time, didn't I?"

"Do you mean with a towel wrapped around me and freshly showered? That's a good time?" Francesca growled, examining his half naked body and very calm nature.

He shrugged, "Yeah, it makes everything easier."

"Easier? You think I'm going to have sex with you? Is it not clear I do not want you in my room?"

"Francesca, be reasonable."

"Reasonable has nothing to do with it," she huffed, pulling the towel tighter around her. "You're absolutely disgusting and if you think for one second I will consider sleeping with you then-"

He rolled over onto his side, "Chill out. You're getting to uptight. I mean you told me a little while ago that you were a one-night-stand type of girl. And we're alone in your teenage bedroom… a little kinky…"

Francesca rolled her eyes and pulled open a dresser drawer, "Unbelievable. Fine. You can stay here, but nothing is happening. I'm not going to touch you or even look at you." She turned into her bathroom and slipped on her spaghetti strap night dress that went down to mid-thigh with lace trim. She knew what a mistake it was but didn't give a crap anymore. Going back into her room, Francesca crossed her arms, "I'm going to lie down beside you and you're going to be respectful and not touch me while I sleep. Clear?"

"Fine," Face smiled in a sarcastic way, giving her the up-down.

She climbed into bed and slipped the sheets over her shoulders. Turning off the light, Francesca said definitively, "Goodnight."

"Night."

After a few minutes of silence her eyes shot open. His breathing was calm. "Are you still awake?" she asked.

Face replied, "Yep."

Francesca turned to look at him, "So anyway…"

"Thank God," he destroyed the space between them and kissed her deeply.

Francesca let him roll on top of her as they kissed furiously for awhile. His skin was warm and almost burned her cold hands. Pulling away, Francesca stared at the ceiling. Face buried his face in her neck, pressing his lips to her light skin. He started to pull down the straps of her nightgown, but Francesca stopped him.

"Face, are you wearing-" she sneezed suddenly, her eyes watering. The overwhelming sent of cologne tickled her nose.

Face lifted his head, his hair falling over his eyes, "What?"

"Do you have on some sort of cologne or… or perhaps-" she looked to her arm which looked red. "Ow…"

Face raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

Francesca pushed him off of her, "I'm allergic to your cologne!" She started scratching, "What is that?"

"It's just some…"

"Just leave," she laughed. "Go away before I can't breathe,"

Sighing, Face shrugged, "Second base. Good enough."

Francesca scratched her arms, "Oy, Face…"

"I'm leaving!" he held up his hands in defeat and left quickly.

_Flashback_

Francesca walked out onto the terrace of the Italian villa, holding two plates full of food. She put the plates on the glass table that overlooked the water. She smiled and looked back, "You forgot something."

Hannibal was trying to close the sliding glass door behind him with his foot, his hands full, "What did I forget?"

"You have cups?" Francesca laughed, and walked over to him. "I'll get them."

"Thanks," he rolled his eyes.

She walked past him and went to go get a few glasses. Hannibal placed the bottle, napkins and silverware on the table, carefully examining the set up. Francesca had set out a vase of red roses and baby's breath. "Sit down," Francesca called from the door, holding two wine glasses.

"I will, don't push me," he smiled and sat in the chair.

Francesca walked over, putting a glass down at each place setting. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was unshaven, unkempt, but perfectly flawed at that moment. While she, in Hannibal's eyes, was a vision in light blue.

"Well, eat," she sat down, folding her hands. "I hope it's good."

They both ate in silence for a few moments. "Oh my God," Hannibal's eyes gravitated to her. "This is awesome."

"Thank god, I didn't want to say and you not like it," Francesca covered her mouth, still chewing.

He chuckled, "No, it's great."

She smiled and rolled her eyes, "I do pride myself on my cooking ability if anything." Francesca picked up the bottle of wine and poured it into the glasses. "And now…" she put down the bottle and picked up her glass. "To my Italia, si?"

"You put a bit more wine in your glass than mine," Hannibal said in a nitpicky way, smiling.

"Ruined my toast, dumbass," Francesca giggled before taking a gulp of the wine.

Hannibal grinned, "I know, I know."

They ate and talked for two hours at a leisurely pace. Finally, when they were finished, Francesca stood up from the table and took him by the hand, "Let's take a walk."

He looked at her surprised, "But…"

"No sex on a full stomach, darling," Francesca helped him up, wrapping her hand around his bicep. She led him down the dock that connected to the house, "What are you thinking?"

"Wow, tough question."

"Really?" Francesca looked up at him. "Then that makes more of reason to tell me."

He looked over at her, kissed the top of her head, "Well, whataya think I'm thinking about?"

Francesca's heart fluttered. She desperately wanted to say 'me'. But she knew in her heart what was true, "Saving the world, yes?"

"Kinda," Hannibal listened to the swaying of the water.

She kicked off her shoes and slipped away, "I want to go in the water."

"I'll look on from afar." Hannibal stared at her back while she took off her dress, "Can't people see you?"

"Everyone does it," Francesca looked back in a flirtatious manner and shrugged.

He had never really looked at her back until now. It was so elegantly smooth, a few beauty marks across her left shoulder and a small scar on her lower back, "Let's just head inside."

"You'll miss out," she got ready to jump in. "Come now."

Hannibal crossed his arms, "Go play."

"I'm such a child," Francesca said and then did a cannonball into the water. The warm water splashed Hannibal. She reached the surface quickly and laughed, "You want to save the world, but you're scared of a little water."

"I'm not in the mood to get wet," he laughed, stepping forward.

Francesca turned and said in a sing-song voice, "I need someone to save me…"

"Francesca-"

"Is there a big, strong man who could save me?" she widened her doe eyes. "Maybe an army ranger." They both were quiet for a minute. "Help me…" she smiled crookedly and then dove under the water.

Hannibal hung his head, smiling, "Oh, Checka."

He took off his shoes and then his shirt. Then, he dove in after her.

The water was so clear he could see her a little deeper in the water. Francesca opened her eyes and smiled at him. He swam to meet her, wrapping her in his arms.

Francesca kissed him deeply, but pulled away pointing to the surface. Hannibal nodded. They bobbed at the top of the water breathing heavily. "That was so much sexier in my head," she laughed.

He nodded, "Well, we could try again."

Breathing for a few more seconds, Francesca smiled, "Let's go." They took deep breaths before diving under the water. Both swam down for a time before reaching for one another. They kissed, limbs intertwining. Francesca's hair engulfed Hannibal's face in a bath of gold. They come up again, breathing heavily and then laughing. Francesca put her arms around his neck, trying to keep the weight off of him while treading water. "Swimming of a full stomach. I'm an idiot. Let's go."

"Thank goodness," he kissed her on the lips and they swam to the dock where a wooden ladder gracefully waited for them. They tried to get to the house but Francesca collapsed near the terrace. Hannibal took advantage of that situation and lowered himself over her, kissing her neck.

She ran her fingers through his hair, "Oh my god."

He murmured, "You are so beautiful."

Francesca quietly whispered, "Thank you." Bewilderment fell across her face as he continued to kiss and caress. She didn't let it hinder her for too long.

Later, Hannibal and Francesca lay side by side, trying to catch their breath again. "Wow," Francesca gasped.

"Good, bad? Ugly?" he chuckled.

"Awesome," Francesca basked in the red glow of exquisite ecstasy.

Hannibal looked over at her with a smug smile. Mission accomplished.

_End Flashback_

Francesca had finally found when a loud pounding came from the bedroom door. She shot up from the bed, frowned, and growled, "Who's there?"

"Open the damn door!" B.A. shouted.

Francesca got out of bed and opened the door, "What the hell-" She noticed his bald head and gasped, stifling a laugh, "Your head."

He shoved Murdock forward, "He said you told him to do it?"

"He was sleeping, it was perfect," Murdock shrugged.

"I did not tell you to do this!" she shouted.

Murdock nodded, "You said make yourself useful and-"

"No one can take a damn joke anymore, can they?" Francesca yelled. "Look, it's his fault that he shaved your hair off not mine."

"What's going on?" Hannibal's voice came from down the hall.

"Please, I just want to sleep," Francesca felt tears pricking her eyes.

B.A. pointed to his head, "How can you sleep when this is on your mind?"

"I can sleep just fine," some tears streamed down her face. "Now leave me alone."

The two went silent as Hannibal walked over. He watched Francesca quickly look away from him and then go to the bed. He then looked to Murdock and B.A., raising an eyebrow. He whispered, "Look who's making her cry now?"

They both took the hint and walked back to the room the boys were sharing. Hannibal closed the door behind him. "You okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Francesca turned back to him, throwing her hands in the air.

Hannibal shook his head slowly.

She pushed her tears away, "I just want to be left alone."

"You're like Greta Garbo," he smirked.

Francesca smiled through her tears, "I guess."

They both were quiet. Hannibal tried to catch her eyes with his own and when he did, she always tried to look away again. "Francesca…" he stepped forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just did."

Francesca stared at him for a long moment and then said calmly, "I know you didn't." Suddenly, she walked to him, touched his cheeks, and whispered, "I know."

Hannibal swallowed awkwardly, feeling her touch. He gently slid his hands around her waist. Then, dragged his hand across her stomach, reaching for the hem of her dress, but stopped when he felt an indent in her skin. He pulled away, tracing his fingers across the dent again.

Francesca took his hand, "What's wrong?"

"How did that happen?" he recalled the purple and red scar he had seen during their reunion in the old shack.

She pursed her lips, "Sit down."

They sat on the end of the bed, Francesca leaned on him. "The day you left. A few minutes after you left…A man came to the door and he was threatening me, asking me where you were. And I refused to say. He got a call, I tried to hit him over the head with something and…and he realized what I was doing, shot me, and I don't remember anything else, really."

Hannibal's face fell. He could have prevented that. Minutes were between him leaving and her being shot. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there…" he bit his lip.

"You wanted to leave… and I couldn't stop that. Nothing could."

"No, I really could've," he nodded. Then, he started to kiss her on the lips, running his fingers through her hair, and not thinking.

Francesca felt a wave of shock pass over her, but accepted the kiss passionately. Suddenly, he jumped off the bed and rambled, "Well, it's late and I need to sleep. Big day tomorrow… yes? Yeah. Goodnight."

She looked up at him with longing in her eyes, "Goodnight?"

Hannibal breathed in, "Right." He left then.

Francesca frowned quizzically. She collapsed back on the bed. Every member had been in her bedroom that night and she had kissed two of them.


	17. Chapter 17: Tainted Love

The next morning, Francesca worked for hours in her room and finally, when all her work was done she came out, still in her small nightgown. She made herself an impressive bowl of cereal and retreated back to her room.

It wasn't until ten that night that anyone saw her again. She descended the stairs silently.

All of the boys had gathered around the television in the living room after an exhausting day of work. Hannibal looked up at her, pursing his lips. Francesca didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on the kitchen. She met Polly in the kitchen. Polly looked up, "Oh, Francesca where have you been all day?"

"Working," she stated.

"Come on, Francesca, sit with us," Murdock called to Francesca.

She glared back and then spoke to Polly, "I was just cancelling flights and stuff for guests. Booking our own etcetera." Francesca then looked to the boys, "We leave tomorrow on a 6:30 flight. Tomorrow night."

"Okay," Face smiled at her.

She watched the television for a moment, "What are you guys watching?"

Turning to her, Hannibal cleared his throat, "Golden Girls."

Francesca was quiet and then laughed loudly, "You're kidding!"

"Nope, B.A.'s idea," Face looked to B.A. who had fallen asleep in one of the easy chairs.

Francesca walked into the living room, "Well, I guess I'll see you all in the morning."

"Just sit," Murdock gestured to the space between Face and Hannibal on the couch.

Closing her eyes, Francesca shook her head, "I'm fine. Now, have a good night, gentlemen." She climbed the stairs quickly and retreated to her room.

Murdock smirked, "Alright."

"Well she seems better than she was last night," Face smiled.

"When did you see her last night?" Hannibal frowned.

Face froze, "I just suspect."

"He's right, though. She is better," Murdock pursed his lips.

"When were _you _with her last night?" Face scoffed.

He shrugged, "I mean…"

"The point is she's having issues. I think her being by herself is helping her," Hannibal closed his eyes.

Face laughed, "Next someone's going to tell me that you were all in her bedroom last night."

"Well, we were…kinda," Murdock pulled his baseball cap over his eyes.

"What?" Face gasped.

"Why is it such a big deal?" Murdock laughed.

He rolled his eyes, "I don't know."

"What were you even doing in there?" Hannibal picked up his empty beer bottle off the coffee table and got up off the couch.

"Nothin'," Face shrugged.

Hannibal walked to the kitchen and stood at the counter.

"C'mon it must've been something," Murdock prodded Face.

"I mean, I don't want to say anything with Polly around," Face smirked.

Polly heard him and laughed, "It's not like Francesca won't tell me at some point."

Hannibal was confused. It was something he didn't want to say in front of Polly. What did that mean?

"Alright, then," Face smiled and began to speak in a boastful manner. "Last night, Francesca and I…well…we were just hanging out in her bed. And then we started kissing and we almost had sex. It was pretty awesome."

Murdock stared at Face, gaping.

"You _almost _had sex?" Polly frowned, looking up from the book in front of her.

There was a crashing sound.

Everyone turned to see Hannibal stooped over the counter, the neck of the bottle in his hand and the rest strewn across the ground.

"Hannibal…" Murdock got up and started to go toward him.

"_Almost_," Hannibal growled.

Face got up as well, "Hannibal, what-"

"You think you own every woman that swoons over your blue eyes and blonde hair and your stupid smile, don't you?" he looked up. His eyes went wild. "You son of a bitch, you want everything."

Murdock looked between them both, "Face, you may want to run."

"Hannibal, now listen buddy," Face didn't listen to Murdock. "She's just a girl."

Polly stood up as well, "Nobody is going to get stabbed in my house. Not tonight. I just washed the carpet."

"She's not just a girl. She's…she's so much more than that and you would know that if you took anytime to understand anyone," Hannibal started to walk forward.

Face stepped back, "Hannibal, calm down."

Hannibal snapped. He dropped the bottle and came at Face, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"She's a pretty girl."

"Right," Hannibal tried to grab the collar of Face's shirt, but Face slipped away. "Just another pretty girl that you want to have sex with, right?"

Murdock ran to Hannibal and grabbed his shoulders, "Easy boss!"

Shrugging off his hands, Hannibal rumbled toward him and took Face by the scruff of the neck, "What are you running from, huh?" Using little force, he pulled Face back and threw him on the ground.

"Hannibal, don't-" Face tried to speak.

Hannibal dropped down on top of Face, punching him in the jaw from the left, "You don't know how to treat anyone! You're just selfish."

Face didn't speak, couldn't speak, actually. He used his knee to force Hannibal off of him. Once they were parted, Murdock pulled Face away and Polly stood between Hannibal and the others.

"You're not going to hit a girl, are you?" Polly pursed her lips.

Face looked at Hannibal innocently, "What the hell?"

Murdock closed his eyes, "You don't understand, Face."

"No shit, I don't," Face screeched and then grit his teeth. He got up off the ground and pushed Murdock out of the way. His hands were balled into fists, "What's a few little kisses worth? It's like she was your girlfriend or something. So you wanna give up my friendship because of my vice?"

"Not at all my point," Hannibal stepped toward Face.

"You just want power over me. And I'm not gonna give that to you," Face licked his lips and breathed out. "Not yet."

_Flashback_

"I don't want to say goodbye," Francesca whispered to Hannibal, burying her head in the pillow.

"It'll just be for a little bit," Hannibal brushed some hair from her face. "We keep having these chance encounters. It's okay."

Francesca touched his hand, "How will I know that this isn't goodbye forever?"

"Because I wouldn't let that happen," Hannibal smiled.

Francesca returned the smile and touched his shirtless chest. They had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning. The sun was already peaking through the shades and Francesca felt like crying. Hannibal had to leave and, as always, save the world. She leaned forward, putting her head on his pillow, "I'll write to you."

"But I never have time to write back," Hannibal frowned.

She bit her lip, "I mean you wouldn't have to. I just… I want to write to you."

Hannibal paused and then nodded, "Alright… if you want to."

"Have you ever heard 'letter for Colonel Smith'? Would that be new for you?" Francesca sat up and leaned over him. "Would the boys be jealous? Or would thy ask lots of questions?" she started giggling.

Hannibal suddenly stopped, "Questions?"

"Well, if you never got letters-"

"Maybe it's best if you don't write to me," Hannibal frowned.

"Don't be silly. I want to," Francesca leaned down and kissed his neck. "They'll wonder who it is and they'll wish they had a friend writing to them. Murdock will know. He won't wonder."

Hannibal pushed her up as he sat up, "Let's not be hasty."

"Come on, it'll be like a secret mission. You know? Hiding the letters, avoiding confrontation," Francesca kissed the tip of his nose.

He put his arm around her, "If it makes you happy."

"And it does," she grinned. "Now, how much longer do you have until the boys are expecting you?"

"An hour."

Francesca murmured, "A good, solid hour. Now where haven't we done it?"

"Uh…Bathroom."

"The shower, twice. Next."

"Kitchen."

"I think we rolled over that way when we started in the front hallway."

"Why don't you think of something?" Hannibal laughed.

Francesca shrugged, "I don't know… The standard bed always works."

"Fair enough," Hannibal leaned back.

An hour later, Hannibal stood by the front door with his arms crossed, "Francesca, I'm going to be late."

"I'm coming!" she walked down the steps and ran toward him. "Goodbye, my lovely ranger!" She jumped up, throwing her arms around him, "I'll miss you. I don't want to let you go."

Hannibal hugged her deeply. He didn't really know how to respond to that. Her admiration for him was sometimes overwhelming, but he enjoyed it always. "Goodbye," he pulled away, kissed her lips delicately, and then turned to the door. "Check the island once I leave."

"Hm?" she said in a confused manner.

"Just do it," he opened the door and walked out, "Now goodbye. Stay safe."

She blew him a kiss as he closed the door. Then, Francesca ran to the island. On it, there lay a piece of paper. She picked it up and read it.

_Francesca,_

_ Since I will be getting all of your notes, I thought you deserved one. At least one. Italy was beautiful. I was very glad to run into you. When I'm around you I feel needed. Not that I don't often, but… In a different way. I don't know what it is about you. You're silly and smart and beautiful…_

_ I'm not very eloquent. So I hope these comments can last you until I see you next. _

_ John_

Francesca folded the paper and put it on the table. Taking a deep breath, she screamed until her voice was hoarse, jumping up and down, laughing, smiling. She stopped almost immediately afterward sat down to write her first letter.

_End Flashback_

Face came at Hannibal and tried to hit him once. Hannibal ducked, grabbed Face's upper arm, and twisted it behind his back.

"Guys! What are you doing?" Murdock shouted. "This is so stupid!"

Polly stepped away, hiding behind B.A.'s chair.

Face turned out Hannibal's grasp and hit him across the face, then kicked him in the stomach.

The fight took the floor again. There was blood. Murdock finally gained control of the situation, pulling Face back, "Stop it! Look what you're doing to one another!"

Hannibal leaned back on his elbows breathing heavily.

"You okay, man?" Face asked, looking at the blood on Hannibal's face.

Tasting the tinny blood in his mouth, Hannibal nodded, "I think so."

"What's going on down here?" Francesca ran down the stairs. Her eyes gravitated straight to Hannibal, "Oh my God! What happened?"

Polly pursed her lips, "A fight broke out."

Francesca looked at Face next, "Why? What-"

"Francesca, go upstairs, we'll take care of it," Polly mumbled.

"But…"

"Here," Polly cleared her throat. "Go down the street and buy some milk. We're out."

Francesca frowned, "But it's not-"

"Go!" Polly yelled at her.

For once, Polly was showing a serious side. Francesca bit her lip, "Now just a minute-"

"Francesca, get the hell out for God's sake!" Polly pointed to the door.

Francesca went silent, eyes wide. She stepped to the door, scanned the scene once more and ran outside, closing the door behind her. Polly cleared her throat, "All of you in the kitchen."

They all just stared at her.

"Now," she growled.

The three boys scrambled to the kitchen like little children who had just been found sneaking another cookie from the cookie jar. Polly went to the freezer and pulled out an ice tray, "I don't want to hear a word."

"Can-" Hannibal began.

"Not _one word_," Polly barked.

Avoiding the glass on the ground, she assembled plastic bags of ice for the two gentlemen that now had bruises forming on their faces. "Now, we're going to talk like civil people. Clear?"

"What the hell, man? You just went after me," Face gasped.

"Look, Face, you just don't understand," Murdock looked at Hannibal sympathetically.

"Where'd everybody go?" B.A. shouted a question from the living room.

Polly looked through the doorway, "We're in the kitchen."

He walked in, eyes narrowed, "What happened?"

"Sit," Polly turned and handed the bags to Hannibal and Face. "You two talk."

Hannibal looked to Face, "You treat women like objects."

"I don't understand why you got so upset suddenly. I've always treated women like objects."

"What happened?" B.A. whispered to Murdock.

"Hannibal and Face got into a little fourth grade fist fight."

Polly glared, "Quiet."

"Well, it's not right."

"But why did you get defensive now? You never get involved," Face shrugged.

Hannibal didn't reply.

"Hannibal," Murdock swallowed, touching his leader's shoulder.

"It's just not right."

"You're not going to say anything unless it's for a cause. What's the point you're trying to make, huh?" Face leaned forward.

Hannibal felt his face flush. Polly smiled meekly, "I'll step out for a little bit, I think." She teetered into the laundry room which was right off the kitchen, locking the door behind her.

"Tell them," Murdock whispered.

"I'm thinking about how," Hannibal slid down in his chair.

Face frowned, "Tell us what?"

"I'll tell them," Murdock bit his tongue.

"No, no…" Hannibal stood up, went over to the sink, and spit out some blood from the cut in his mouth. "Look," he said to the wall. "Look, you just have to listen to me and understand that a lot has happened. A lot that is hard for me to understand." He turned to his team. Murdock sat down beside Face, smiling. B.A. and Face both were frozen, wondering what he had to say. "Francesca and I have known each other met seven years ago at her brother's wedding. And… we were two lonely people who didn't want to be there. We ended up-" Hannibal closed his eyes. "Sleeping together."

"Holy…" Face's eyes widened. "Candy apple red."

B.A. was ready to jump out of his chair, but Murdock had a good grasp on his shoulder, "No…no. Tapenade, buddy." B.A. relaxed.

"There's more. A lot more," Hannibal leaned on the counter. "Francesca and I met each other again at a conference, but chance. And we slept together again. Mind you it was just sex. But…then things started to get a little more arranged. I met her at her apartment and…and Murdock found out. Murdock has known for about six and a half years. And then there was our escapade in Italy-"

Face put his face in his palms, "Are you serious?"

Hannibal continued to explain the relationship that continued on and became more heated. Face the whole time thought in horror, "You were the guy."

"What guy?"

"What happened? Tell me, what happened after that?" Face got up.

"After that," Hannibal looked to Murdock for a little support, but got none. "She told me she loved me. And I left."

Face gawped, "You…you were the one she told me about. She told me she fell in love with someone who was too afraid. You were him…Oh my God." Face ran his hands through his hair.  
"Yeah, that'd be me," Hannibal looked at his feet, embarrassed.

"Did you love her?" B.A. raised an eyebrow.

Hannibal met his gaze, feeling his heart leap into his throat, "I must've. Last night I kissed her."

"Oh…that's so sweet," they all heard Polly whimper.

"I've kissed you. I came this close to having sex with you, Hannibal!" Face yelled.

"Indirectly," Murdock held out his hand.

Pulling out a cigar form his pocket, Hannibal looked to Murdock, "Well, that's my story."

"Well, then," B.A. stood up and clapped his hands. "I'm in."

Hannibal lit his cigar and took a drag, "In what?"

"I'm in to be a matchmaker," B.A. smiled.

"What?" he retorted.

Face turned to B.A., "Thanks."

B.A. rolled his eyes, "What do you know? You never watched Golden Girls until I forced you. How do you have any emotional stability? You don't know what true love is."

"What true love? What are you…" Hannibal stared.

The front door opened. "I'm back with your milk, now will someone tell me what's going on?" Francesca stepped into the house, holding a gallon of two percent.


	18. Chapter 18: Rolling In the Deep

**Sorry it's taken so long for another update. A case of writer's block is the worst isn't it? I know where I'm going, just don't know how to get there. Well, here you go guys. Promise for more fun trials to come. **

Hannibal sucked in his lower lip and turned to the sink. Polly ran out of the laundry room and looked to Francesca, "Why'd you get skim?"

Francesca stared at Polly and then looked to the milk, "I didn't, I got two percent."

"It looks like skim to me," Polly put her hands on her hips.

"What the hell is going on?" Francesca tried to catch the eyes of any of the others, but they all avoided her gaze. "Why is everyone avoiding talking to me?"

Polly looked down at the ground, "Francesca, go to the store and buy…something." She walked over took the milk and said, "Please."

Francesca scanned the boys once more, sighed, and turned out of the house without another word. Polly's mouth turned into a smile, "What's all this talk about true love?"

"No talk," Hannibal shook his head. "That's nonsense."

"Hannibal, come on," Murdock sat on the table. "You kissed her last night."

"So what? A kiss is just a kiss, just ask Face," Hannibal turned and gestured to his young colleague.

Face smiled meekly, "Man, when you punch out a guy for kissing someone, that's serious. Even I know that." He crossed his arms, "You really like her."

Hannibal narrowed his eyes, "I'm going to bed."

"Hannibal," Polly stopped him.

He looked to her quizzically.

"Francesca isn't someone who you can just forget about you realize," she smiled. "And I'm not just saying that because I've been her mother for fifteen years. She's… different than most girls. She has her passions, but they're secret. And I realize that you're like most boys. You're rough and tough and it takes a special person to reach your heart. And if she has. You can't let that go. If you broke her heart, it's up to you to pick up the pieces."

Hannibal stayed quiet, his heart was racing.

"Goodnight, guys," she said the boys and then turned back to Hannibal. Polly took his hand and squeezed it, giving him a sweet smile, "Good luck."

When Polly was out of earshot, Murdock laughed, "I think Polly just gave you her blessing."

B.A. laughed as well, "Face it, Hannibal."

"You're in love," Face clucked.

"Who knew all of this could come out of a little lipstick on your collar, huh?" Murdock swung his legs back and forth.

Suddenly Face gasped, "B.A.!"

"What?" B.A. frowned.

"You're head!" he replied. "What happened?"

B.A. glared, "Murdock happened."

"Anyway, back to me…" Hannibal said.

"Well, if we're going to get you guys together then we need… a plan," Face shrugged.

"Oh, not another of Face's plans," Murdock swallowed.

The front door swung open. Francesca stood there with a case of twenty four beers. "Alright, let's go. I want to get drunk and I want to wake up and not remember what happened tonight," she put the cases down, pulled out a beer, clamped her teeth down on the metal top and pulled it off with ease. After spitting out the cap, she turned to the boys, held up the drink and smiled, "Who's with me?"

The boys were all silent for a long time before Face asked, "Are you drunk?"

"Not at all," Francesca's smile turned into a grimace. She put the bottle to her lips and drank. Then, she growled, "I know you're not going to tell me what's going on, might as well have a little fun."

They still all stared at her.

"Oh, come on. There are twenty-four of them," she looked to her hand. "Twenty-three. You're not going to let me drink them all by myself. That'd be…embarrassing."

Face shrugged, "I'm in."

She nodded, "Who else?"

"What the hell, I don't have to get up early," B.A. smiled.

Francesca looked to Hannibal with big puppy dog eyes, "I'm not going to have to beg, am I?"

He bit his lip, "I am going to bed. Good night."

All of the boys heaved a sigh to which Francesca stepped back, "Fine. Have a nice night."

Hannibal walked up the steps feel a strange pull back down, but refused to give into it. Francesca looked at her feet, "Beer. Beer is fun."

Murdock smiled, "As long as you're not a weepy drunk, I'm in."

"I'm a fun drunk," Francesca laughed, finished her beer, and grinned. "Let's get started."

_Flashback_

"Colonel Smith!" a young man walked through the camp toward him. "Got a letter, sir."

Hannibal was sitting with his team, laughing, smoking a cigar. Face looked up from the conversation, a confused look on his face, "Another?"

"Face, don't wrinkle your face like that, it'll stay that way," Murdock laughed.

Face let his wrinkles smooth out, "But…I mean-"

"Thanks," Hannibal accepted the letter with a small smile.

"What number is that?" B.A. raised an eyebrow.

"Ten," Face nodded. "I'm pretty sure it's ten."

Taking the letter, Hannibal folded it and stuck it in his pocket, "Nine, actually."

"You've been keeping count?" B.A. crossed his arms.

He stood, "Boys, I'll be back in twenty minutes."

They watched him leave and then gravitated closer to one another. Murdock cocked his head to the side, "Anyone ever get a hand on one of those letters?"

"I tried once," Face frowned. "But he caught me. And I don't know where he keeps them anymore."

B.A. leaned back, "I have a plan."

"Wow, let's here," Face laughed. "Go."

Meanwhile, Hannibal sat on his cot reading the letter for the second time.

_Hannibal, _

_ Currently, I'm investigating a murder on Easter Island. I know that sounds so surreal. It sounds so stupid, actually. I can't help but laugh as I write this. It's quite beautiful here and I'm extremely lonely. Sure there are other people with me, but do they stay all night in my hotel room?_

_ The answer is no, just in case you were wondering_

_ I broke my hand after I punched a wall…don't ask. But I'm still working hard to catch a killer. Wish me luck. _

_ I hope that you're feeling well. In your last letter you said you had a touch of the flu. Unfortunately, that was about a month ago, so I'm not sure if that's even relevant any longer. _

_ I miss you. A lot. I've slept alone for two months now. A record considering the past year. _

_ My ninth letter. I'm hoping you'll send me your third._

_ Me_

_P.S. Have you read Pride and Prejudice? I wouldn't expect you to since you're a man…but it's a classic. Just curious. _

Hannibal had a quirky smile plastered on his face. He quickly and quietly flipped the page and wrote.

_Touch of flu disappeared. _

_Easter Island sounds like a ball. Hope your hand heals quickly. You'll have to tell me about punching a wall. _

_Want to see you soon. South Africa in two weeks is convenient for me. Meet me at the Cape Town city hall, 9 PM. If you show…_

_I sleep in a tent with men every night. I'd rather have it your way. But sleeping next to you sounds so nice. _

_ If you couldn't tell, I miss you. _

_ And I told you I wouldn't be able to write often. I wish I could. I took twenty minutes to read your letter and write quickly. It's hard to get privacy. _

_ Haven't read Pride and Prejudice. You're not just curious. You've got an ulterior motive which I am now determined to find out. _

_ Hannibal_

_ P.S. I don't have anything to say. Just thought I'd include a post script. _

He shoved the letter back into the envelope to keep until he could find another. Then, instead of retreating back to his fellows, he kicked back onto the bed, sighing happily. It wasn't the sigh of exasperation or anger, but that of someone without a care in the world.

Two weeks later, he stood in front of city hall at 8:56. Four minutes meant too much anticipation, too much impatience. Sure enough, at nine, he could see a dark figure approaching him. Heels clicking, hair tossing, a feminine gait.

"Francesca," he said to himself through a smile.

Francesca came up to him, "So I showed…"

"I'm very glad you did," Hannibal pressed his lips to hers quickly, giving her a simple kiss.

First, she felt a little shocked, but then relaxed into the kiss. Francesca pulled away, "Woah."

He smirked, "I knew you'd come." That was a lie. "I have a hotel room and everything."

"How…prepared," Francesca said, confused.

Francesca put her hand around his arm, "So you shook of the boys, or what?"

"They're all sound asleep in their rooms, snug in their beds-"

"With visions of sugar plums-"

"Alright, I get it," he grabbed around the waist, laughing.

She giggled and rested her head on his shoulder, "Why are you acting so sweet?"

"Aren't I always?" Hannibal frowned.

"Well, yes, but you're taking initiative out side of the bedroom. It's nice," Francesca scoffed. "Now where are we going?"

Hannibal led her down to a waterfront hotel. He could sense that she was very tired, not really in an upbeat mood. "You alright?" he slipped his arm around her waist.

Francesca sighed and looked up at him, "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"Well, I am. I'm just tired," she closed her eyes, trusting his guidance. Then, she opened her eyes again to look out over the water, "It's so beautiful here. It's so quiet."

Hannibal felt bad that he had gone to so much trouble to make this special when she wouldn't be able to enjoy. He felt worse that she would probably feel bad for not being able to enjoy everything. His head hurt from all of the weird emotions within him.

She moved forward to the water, bending over from the walkway, and staring at the fish down below. Francesca seemed so peaceful, yet tormented. Her quietness worried him. He knelt beside her, "Are you sure you're alright, Francesca?"

Francesca didn't reply. He could see tears streaming down her cheeks. Her lips were pursed tightly.

"Francesca-"

"It's all just so…awful how fragile life is, John," she hiccupped in her tearful state.

"What's going on?" Hannibal asked urgently, gathering her in his arms.

But she didn't respond. She cried into his chest. Hannibal got her up on her feet, "Let's go inside, yes?"

"I'm so sorry," she pushed the tears out of her eyes. "I didn't mean to-"

"You don't have to make excuses," John smiled meekly. They approached a room which he unlocked with the keycard.

Walking in, Francesca looked at the luxurious sweet and everything that graced it. Her heart pounded and she cried harder, "I'm ruining everything."

Hannibal took a deep breath, "You want to tell me what's bothering you?"

She shook her head, "No. I can't, John. I really can't."

"There's a reason I'm here."

Francesca lifted her head.

He gave her a crooked smile, "I'm here for you. Right?"

She pushed back her tears and gave him a smile, "Right." Instead of telling him she jumped into the bed and rested her eyes for a moment, "Isn't the rain lovely when it turns purple?"

"Go to sleep, you're tired," Hannibal sighed.

"No, lie down next to me."

Lying down on his side, he narrowed his eyes, "So…purple rain."

"And then the sky turns to a bleak yellow and we all fall down…" her eyes shot open. "Colors."

"And there are orange-"

"Cows."

"The gulls are…a light-"

"Blue. With a hint of cherry."

"What does that mean?"

Francesca turned to him and quietly said, "Tommy has cancer."

_End Flashback_

"What was I talking about?" Francesca lifted her head from the table in a drunken stupor.

"I don't remember," Face laughed, hanging his head over the back of the chair.

B.A. started laughing without end, not saying anything.

Francesca stood up, leaning on Murdock for support, "I'm going to go run through the sprinkler."

"Sounds like fun," Murdock popped up.

"Why don't you go set that up, I want to talk to Murdock," Face pulled at the pilot's jacket.

She continued on her way, stumbling out the back door, laughing.

"What, Facey?" Murdock sat back down.

"You know that thing that happened earlier…" Face tried to find the words he was looking for without success. "With H-Hannibal?"

"Yeah."

"Well, how does Francesca feel?" Face slurred. "Like is this mutual or somethin'?"

Murdock whispered quite loudly, "I think so. She got so upset over what he did."

"What'd he do again?" Face stood up and stumbled toward the back door.

"Oh…I don't really remember," Murdock followed and rested on his shoulder.

Face laughed, "Well, what do you know?"

"Can you keep a secret?" Murdock pulled Face by the collar over to the table again. He leaned over it, "Like a deep secret."

Face nodded, "Uh, yeah."

"Francesca…Francesca thought that she was pregnant one time…with Hannibal. And then she told me. And I said I wouldn't tell. But I told. That was dumb," Murdock widened his eyes. "I'm going to bed."

Face suddenly sobered up, "What?"

"I mean…"

"Are you kidding?" Face laughed. "That's crazy. Does-"

"No, he doesn't."

They looked at each other for a long time. Face furrowed his brow, "Are you gonna tell him?"

"No…I mean it's her business, right?"

Face paused and pursed his lips, "Right. But what if she never tells him?"

"If everything works out…she will, won't she?" Murdock frowned.

Gasping, Face turned around, "Women are so complicated."

"I know, my head hurts."


	19. Chapter 19: Forgiven Not Forgotten

The next morning, Francesca woke up in the backyard. Her back hurt and she groaned. "Hangover," she shut her eyes. Of course, the sun would be out today, with great strength.

"Hey, sweetheart," Polly tittered. "You are a little drunken whore aren't you?" she laughed.

Francesca looked down to find that she was only wearing her undergarments, "What time is it?"

"Oh, not too late, darling," Polly held out a hand to her. "Come on."

Accepting the hand, she replied, "What about the guys?"

Polly helped her up, "B.A. is collapsed on the couch, but Murdock and Face are pretty sober."

"Really?" Francesca croaked, her throat dry. Polly flung a towel around Francesca. They walked into the kitchen to see Face and Murdock at the kitchen table.

"Hey, sunshine!" Murdock grinned.

She waved, covering her face with one hand. "Okay," she said quietly. "Hannibal, you need to dye your hair. And-"

"Hannibal isn't here at the moment," Face made his presence known to her, chuckling quietly.

"Stop screaming, I'm right here," she said woozily and then stumbled to the counter. "I need…uh…"

"Francesca, you're so hungover," Face interrupted again.

Francesca squinted at him and then clucked, "I wish you would stop stating the obvious. Now, you need to wash up, Murdock, you have to cut your hair and I know you don't need help with that seeing that you did up B.A. so well…and then Hannibal needs to-"

"What do I need?" Hannibal walked into the kitchen.

"Why are you all here?" she screamed. "I want to go home."

"You're home," Polly laughed.

"I want to go home, _figuratively_," she spat. Then, Francesca pressed her hands to her forehead again, "Ah! Absolutely dreadful."

Hannibal smiled meekly, "What do I need to do, Francesca?"

"Dye your hair to brown," she peaked out through her fingers. "I have to go lie down." She turned into the living room, but stopped when she heard a faint ringing. Her eyes widened, "My phone. I have to plug in my phone."

Polly smiled, "I did, Francesca. That's your phone ringing in the plug." She grinned, "I knew we still used the same phone."

Francesca paled, "That's my phone…ringing, then."

"It's a text," Face had picked up her phone. "Sixteen actually. The newest from…Dave?"

She stuck out her tongue, "Ew."

"Who's that?" Murdock asked loudly.

"Dave is Dave. There is no adjective for that son of a bitch," she smirked and then collapsed on the couch. "Throw me my phone."

Face had already gone through the texts and moved onto the messages, "Twelve calls from Jenny Nole, five from someone you call 'That Bastard, Griffin', three from Melinda Barrett-"

"Give me the phone," Francesca held up her hand, sounding angry.

Face didn't keep it hostage too much longer. He threw it to her. Francesca dialed a number and then pressed the phone to her cheek. "Mel? Mel, yes, it's me. I'm sorry I've been busy. With work."

Hannibal listened quietly while walking into the living room. He sat on a chair beside the couch and put his fist to his mouth in contemplation.

"Yes, well, please don't tell them that you've talked to me…I realize that they've been calling your home, but they can't know, is that clear?" Francesca closed her eyes. "But…how is Tommy?" She paused and then bit her lip, "And that's good. Better than he was…Well, I realize, but-" Francesca looked over at Hannibal. "You can't call me again, Mel. It's not a good time." She smiled at him and then said lastly, "Mel, I'll call you. Goodbye." She hung up and asked, "What?"

He cleared his throat, "Tommy's doing better."

"Slightly," Francesca pursed her lips.

Hannibal examined the dark circles under her eyes and her ratty hair, "That's enough, isn't it?"

"It'll keep me going for awhile."

_Flashback_

After discussing Tommy for the entire night, Francesca had settled in the bed beside Hannibal, watching the television. She had rested her head on his shoulder and slipped her legs between his.

"Thank you," she whispered, staring at the television screen.

Hannibal put his arm around her and traced his fingers up her arm, "For what?"

"For listening," Francesca looked up at him with two watery eyes. "I just really appreciate it."

He kissed her forehead and replied, "You should be happy. And if I can help you then I will do what it takes to get you there."

Francesca smiled, "That's very sweet. That's," she paused. "Sweeter than any guy I've ever known."

"Well, you deserve that," Hannibal turned back to the television. "Infomercial," he rolled his eyes and pressed the down button. "Now what movie is this?"

She looked to it as well. The black and white shook and a swell of music began, "I think…" Greta Garbo appeared on the screen. "It's _Grand Hotel_."

"And what's it about?"

Francesca drawled, "Oh, John, it's this awful movie. I can't even explain why it got an Oscar for best picture. I can't. And of course, Greta Garbo, Joan Crawford, and John and Lionel Barrymore are fantastic, but for God's sake, could you make a more confusing plot that can't be held up without reading with Wikipedia article."

"Chill out, blondie," he laughed. "I was just asking."

"Since when do you call me blondie?" she giggled.

"Since now," Hannibal pressed his lips on her ear forcefully.

She screeched, "John, stop it." She fell onto her side in the bed and laughed.

Hannibal leaned over her and pressed his lips to her neck. Francesca touched his back and threw her head over the side of the bed, her hair falling down. His body heat forced a little perspiration to form on her neck. Hannibal lifted himself off of her and then gave her one more strong kiss on the lips. Pulling away, he supposed, "Now what do you want to do?"

"I like just lying next to you," Francesca stroked his side.

"But I want to get up. It's almost morning, you realize," Hannibal looked out the window adjacent to the bed.

Francesca looked to see a beautiful sunrise beginning over the water. She slipped out from the bed and went to the window, "It's beautiful out, isn't it?"

"You can tell me if it's beautiful," Hannibal followed her. "You've got opinions."

"Well, it is," Francesca leaned on the sill. "You have to go soon, don't you?"

He put his hands on her shoulders, "Yes."

"Why is it that whenever we meet we have to part so quickly after?" Francesca placed a hand on one of his.

"It must just seem that way."

She shrugged, "Well, I hate it."

"I know."

Francesca gazed out the window for a long time. She liked him touching her. Just his hands placed on her shoulders. For some strange reason, she felt that this was a deeply passionate gesture. But that's how everything had been. Every little glance, every little word uttered. It all made her feel fervor and zeal two words that had been foreign to her for quite some time. She leaned back onto him. Hannibal accepted her and slipped his arms around her chest. He wasn't a man of many words, Francesca decided. His actions were those which spoke numbers. And she knew that because he had a plan.

If he was going to touch her, none of that was spontaneous to him. Francesca knew that there was a motive behind everything he did. Hannibal was a strange and funny man.

"Can I ask you a question?" Francesca frowned.

"Sure," Hannibal answered.

"Don't take this the wrong way. I'm just curious," Francesca turned and gave him this warning.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, "I…won't…"

She ducked out from his view, "Have you ever thought about your future, John?"

"What do you mean?" he questioned confusedly.

"Like…do you ever want to get married? Not to me… but in general," Francesca bit her lip.

He went silent, his brow furrowed.

"Have children, maybe?" Francesca continued.

Still, he stayed quiet.

"Just a thought, alright, I'm going to go get a shower."

"I haven't ever really thought about it," Hannibal finally answered.

She smiled, "Haven't you realized you don't have that much time to think about it?"

"No."

"I see. You're in love with…_saving the world_," she chirped, turning into the bathroom.

Hannibal sat back down on the bed with a reflective expression. He had never thought about getting married or having children. Nor had he ever thought deeply about mortality.

In the bathroom, Francesca climbed into the shower after turning on the water and then cried. Sobbed almost, but soundlessly.

_End Flashback_

After making her phone call, Francesca had retreated to her room where she put the finishing touches on her plan. Murdock had done a little more researcher, Face relaxed in front of his file, B.A. slept on, but Hannibal sat tormented by his thoughts.

_Love. _Love was a strange word. How could this one word describe everything he was feeling? At eleven, he climbed the steps and walked to Francesca's room, holding a box of hair dye. He knocked three times.

She opened it slowly, smiling, "What's up?"

"Could you give me some assistance?" Hannibal held out the box.

Francesca pursed her lips, "Sure. Sure, come in."

He walked into her bedroom, keeping his eyes on the box.

"Just go into the bathroom," she gestured to a door in the room.

Hannibal went inside, "What have you been up to?"

"Making final arrangements, that sort of thing," she followed. "Can you sit by the side of the tub?"

He did so, saying, "I wanted to talk to you."

Francesca went in and knelt beside him, "So you don't need help with your hair?"

"Yes! Yes, I do," that was a lie.

"Okay," she turned to the sink and picked up a comb. Then, Francesca took the box from him. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"I don't really know," Hannibal said quietly.

Francesca raised an eyebrow and started to mix the dye, "Well, we've got some time."

"I really don't know," he shook his head. "I don't actually recall."

Stopping, Francesca looked to him silently and then leaned toward him, "Hannibal," she lifted her hand and placed on one of his. "Are you okay?"

He hung his head, "I'm fine." Love did a lot to him that he didn't know how to control. "I just have a lot to say, but don't know how to say it."

"Well, then sing about it," Francesca said in the utmost seriousness.

"What?" he frowned.

"_Sing_," she reiterated. "Um…what's that one song? _I get no kick from champagne…Pure alco…hol_," she trailed off, looking at his worn smile. "No? Come on…tell me what's bothering you?"

Hannibal smirked, "I thought you had a hangover."

"I did, but then I thought if I act like I have a hangover the whole day, then I'm going to have a really sucky day. So then I drank a bit of rubbing alcohol and I was cured," Francesca hiccupped.

"Rubbing alcohol?" he snickered.

"Yes, but don't worry," she sighed. "I built up a tolerance to it. Now, lean forward."

He did so. Francesca sat on the side of the tub, her legs behind his back. "You can sit back."

Hannibal, leaning back, felt her legs behind him, her knees at his neck. He heard a slight buzz. Francesca faltered and picked up her phone. "Ew."

"Who is it?" Hannibal asked.

"_Daaaave_," she answered in a mundane way.

"Who is Dave?" Hannibal then solicited her secrets.

Francesca started to run her fingers through his hair to apply the dye, but instead she got caught up in the feel of his silver hair. Finally, she snapped from her trance, "Dave owns that house in Southbrook that we stopped at awhile back."

Hannibal remembered. The key for her grandmother's house and been there. "Why'd he have a key to your grandmother's house?"

"He's holding my stuff hostage."

"Why?"

Francesca picked up the comb and the dye, "Well, we were living together for about eight months."

"Really."

"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "I regret every moment of it. He was a nice guy to start off with, very attractive. He was a computer hacker. Taught me everything I know. So we dated for about six months." Francesca laughed to herself, "I was head over heels. Honestly…" She came to an abrupt stop. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, I like listening…to…" Hannibal decided not to finish the statement. You would've been the next word.

She continued, "I moved in with him without a second thought. But then things started getting weird. He was angry a lot, almost violent. For a computer guy, he sure knew how to smash a vase. It was strange. The last two months I ended up sleeping on the couch. He honestly wouldn't let me leave. Had millions of excuses. Dave fed me that stupid 'I'll change line' at least a dozen times. But you know what's embarrassing? The fact that I believed him. Anyway, I left and he was really upset." Francesca rolled her eyes, "Leaving was the best decision I made."

Hannibal sat in awe of the story. Another man had been in her life. He knew she would move on after him, but the fact that she had been _in love_.

"I don't actually know if I ever loved him."

False alarm.

"I tricked myself into it, I suppose."

"I'm sorry that it didn't work out," Hannibal lied.

She finished applying the dye and then slipped out from behind him, "Well, I'm too trusting." Francesca plopped down at his feet and smiled, "But anyway, that's Dave."

"Sounds like an asshole to me," Hannibal sympathized with a slight smile.

She laughed boisterously and then nodded, "Pretty much." Francesca lifted her head, "What about you? Any women in your black book?"

"Nah."

"Really?"

"That's Face's job."

"I see."

"Hannibal!" Murdock's voice echoed through the room.

Hannibal kept his eyes on Francesca as he answered, "In here."

Murdock entered the room. His eyes widened, "Uh…"

"What?" Hannibal tried to force the awkwardness away.

Face ran in, "Sosa. Sosa and friends."

"Sh! You gotta be quiet, fool."

"Who?" Francesca frowned as B.A. closed the bedroom door and walked to the bathroom

"What's she doing?" Hannibal gasped.

Face start scratching the back of his head, "She just showed up at the door and we all ran up here before Polly could answer. She warned us."

"Who is Sosa?" Francesca said.

The boys all looked at her with a blank stare. Murdock then looked to Face, "How do you categorize her nowadays?"


	20. Chapter 20: Something To Talk About

**Hope you're still reading! I'm sorry, but I'm finally out of all the business, so I'm getting a chance to read. I hope you like it. Let me know!**

**DG**

Francesca lowered her gaze from the boys. "Well, go pack up your stuff. Be very quiet. Then meet back in here."

"What are we going to do?" Face bit the inside of his cheek.

"We're going to run," Francesca nodded with finality. "She's bad, right?"

Face pressed his fingers to his cheek in anxiety, "Not _bad_. The people with her are the ones who want us in prison. Not her."

"We still have to leave," Hannibal agreed with Francesca, looking to her quickly. "So go. Ten minutes."

Murdock frowned, "I left some stuff downstairs, though."

"I'll text Polly. She can bring-" Francesca began, stopping to listen to a voice downstairs.

"I'm Captain Charisa Sosa. We are here to ask some questions. Do you know anything on the whereabouts of these men?" Sosa started.

"Go," Hannibal ordered under his breath.

The other three dispersed silently and swiftly. Francesca turned back to Hannibal, "Where did we leave off?"

"I don't remember," Hannibal replied sheepishly. "Do you think you should get this out of my hair?"

Francesca nodded, "Sure. Just rest your head over the side of the tub." She turned on the warm water just as he leaned back.

He closed his eyes, feeling her touch. The pads of her fingers caressed his scalp dispassionately as she got the dye out. Hannibal opened his eyes suddenly to find himself staring at her chest as she bent over him. Again, he closed them tightly.

"Is the water alright?" Francesca asked.

"Yes, just fine," he swallowed.

She turned off the water a few minutes later and then handed him a towel, "Dry and then get your stuff together. We're shipping out."

Hannibal looked to her, took the towel, and smiled, "Right. Yeah."

"You okay?" Francesca stood up and went into the bedroom quietly.

"Fine," he got up and grunted. "Absolutely, fine."

Francesca ducked under the bed and pulled out a vintage Louis Vuitton suitcase, "Good. Then you should get to work packing."

"Yes, I should," he lingered by the doorway of the room, listening to the conversation taking place downstairs.

"Are you sure you haven't seen any of them?"

"Of course. I think I'd remember."

"Ms. Engels, are you aware that if you're lying, you are letting four dangerous men continue on with their antics?"

"They've kidnapped a young woman, Francesca Barrett," he heard Sosa sigh. "Do you know her?"

Polly spoke quietly, "Yes. Yes, I do. She's my Goddaughter."

"Do you know where they are now?" one of the men accompanying Sosa asked Polly in a manner of torture.

Francesca looked to Hannibal, "Don't listen to them. Polly knows exactly what she's doing."

Hannibal turned to Francesca, "Has she done it before?"

"Perhaps," she smirked and went to the dresser to open it. "Wow, I forgot about these." She pulled out two different, neon miniskirts. "God, I can't believe I used to fit in these. They're like hats now."

Hannibal rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Exaggerations."

She looked up, "You look different with brown hair. I don't like it."

"How unfortunate for you," he smiled.

Francesca picked up her cell phone from the dresser and started to text Polly, "May I ask you a question?"

"_Perhaps_," Hannibal approached her. "What is it?"

Brushing some hair from her face, Francesca asked, "Why did you kiss me the other night?" She continued speaking without his answer, "Considering that…something must've compelled you."

He lowered his gaze, "Alright. I'm going to go pack."

"So what is that supposed to mean?" Francesca frowned.

"It means I refuse to answer your question."

"Then you love me," she stated.

Hannibal turned back to her with a look of shock on his face.

"And since I know that to be false, tell me why you kissed me."

He simple replied, "You were upset… It seemed right." He then left the room in order to stop talking about it. He was so uncomfortable, especially since he was blatantly lying to her.

_Flashback_

Francesca walked up to the front door of the rundown shack. In the dead of night, she was really spooked by the place. She began shivering and shoved her hand in her coat pocket, searching for the lone key. In the silence, she could hear faint footsteps somewhere. Frowning, Francesca unlocked the front door, but kept her hand on her other side where she kept her gun.

"I hate my job," she murmured. She opened the door and stepped into the musky smelling living room. There was the usual rickety, gingham patterned sofa that faced an ugly painting of what looked to be a hat sitting beside a glass of ice water. The footsteps continued, she thought, upstairs. Francesca approached the dusty stairs, holding the gun out in front of her. She whispered, "I hate my life."

Francesca snuck quietly across the upstairs hallway toward the bedroom, "Who's there?"

Pressing her foot to the bottom of the door, she swallowed, "Show yourself."

"Hey, relax," she heard a deep voice.

Turning round, she found Hannibal standing at the other end of the hallway, "What if I had shot you? What would you have done?"

"It's nice to see you too," Hannibal walked to her and kissed her forehead.

"Hi," Francesca rolled her eyes and wrapped both of her arms around him. "What are you doing here?"

Hannibal shrugged, "I thought you might want a break from work. Follow me." He took her by the hand into the bedroom that Francesca had just been searching.

In the room, there was a dirty futon and a bottle of inexpensive wine. Francesca smiled lightly, "How…romantic is not the right word, but the first that comes to mind."

"I did what I could in the time I had."

"So you underperformed considering you're a member of the most successful team of rangers in the history of the United States military services," Francesca raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "It was nice of you to think of me."

"I know I underperformed, but romance isn't my area of expertise," he picked up the bottle of wine and opened it without too much struggle. "You, my dear, can have the first sip."

Francesca laughed and accepted the bottle, saying with sarcasm, "Wow, you're the sweetest guy I've ever known." She swigged the wine and said, "So, how'd you get a away?"

"Murdock is preoccupied with _Cheers _reruns, B.A. fell asleep in the back of the van, and Face is having sex with some girl he picked up at Niagara Falls," Hannibal collapsed down on the futon. "The usual."

Kneeling down beside him on the futon, Francesca handed him the bottle, "Oh… sounds pretty normal."

Hannibal smiled back at her, "Well, I've got an hour or two."

"That makes a difference what I decide to do with you, John," she ran one of her hands down his chest.

"I'll give you an hour and a half," he closed his eyes.

Lowering her gaze, Francesca replied, "Then I'll take it slow." She leaned down, resting her chin on his chest and gazed across his tan skin. "How are you?"

Hannibal wrapped his arm around her, tracing his fingers across her back, "I'm good."

She sighed, turning the left side of her face against his chest, "I'm glad."

"How are…you?" he opened his eyes again and tightened his grasp around her.

Francesca bit her lip, "I've been better."

"I know you have…"

"It's just been difficult," she murmured. "Especially for Mel. She's just devastated. As am I, but she has the baby. Not convenient timing." Francesca got up again and sat with her legs crossed, "Tommy feels awful. And it's dumb because it's not his fault. No reason to feel awful."

Hannibal replied, "It's an awful situation."

"If anyone should've gotten cancer it should've been me," she turned her head away. "I smoke cigarettes like they're oxygen. I don't wear sunscreen…and I drink a lot. My liver is probably shot already," Francesca pondered.

He sat up, "Calm down, it's just an unfortunate situation. Tommy shouldn't have gotten cancer, but neither should you." Hannibal clapped his hand down on Francesca's. "Don't worry."

Francesca silently moved toward him and pressed her lips to his, running one of her hands around in his hair. He responded by relaxing again and leaning back on the futon. Pulling away for only a moment, Francesca smiled, "You always know what to say." Her lips crashed onto his again. The passion intensified, her breath became heavier. The testosterone was palpable in the dusty room.

Hannibal became unresponsive, turning his head away.

She frowned, "What's wrong?"

"I…" he sat up, Francesca still clinging to his shirt. "I thought I heard something…"

Francesca turned to look at the doorway. Indeed there was a sound, not one like the creaking of an old home. She bit her lip, "Well, can't we-"

"Shhhh…" Hannibal trailed off and got up off of the bed. He went to his jacket which he had casually flung over a chair in the corner of the room.

"Are you sure? It's an old house," she tried to deny what they were hearing.

He smiled to her, "It's not a big deal to just check it out."

"Well, let me come then. I don't feel safe all by my lonesome," Francesca giggled.

Hannibal approached the door and peered out, "There's someone. I can see their shadow."

Jumping off of the futon, she fled toward him, "What do we do?"

He didn't reply, instead opening the door slowly. Francesca stood against the wall in agonizing anxiety. She didn't even realize how she was acting. Her job was to serve and protect and she did her job well. Never frightened. Until now, when she had this man to defend her. Suddenly, a gunshot went off. Francesca heard Hannibal's gasp. She jumped back and ran to the door, frightened that she would see Hannibal lying on the ground. Fortunately enough, he wasn't. Another shot went off and she jumped back.

Hannibal grunted, ran toward the figure, trying to reach out and grab the collar of the stranger's shirt, but missed by inches. He shot again. His shot had never been so off in such a short radius. Francesca ran out of the room behind him, her hands steady on her own gun. She aimed, shot, and hit the target.

The stranger crumpled up at the end of the hallway, hand pressed to their shoulder.

Hannibal looked back to her with an flushed grimace. She touched his arm and said in a blunt tone, "Well, what should we do with the bastard?"

_End Flashback_

Francesca had packed all of her things and was now waiting near the staircase for Polly to come up. Murdock ran out of the room he had been sharing with the guys and whispered, "How are we getting out of here?"

"We'll go out the back window and grab the car," Francesca pointed toward his bedroom. "I'm just waiting for Polly to get a moment to bring up the keys and papers."

Downstairs, Polly had gotten the text, read it when Charisa and her helpers weren't looking, and had stood up in an attempt to get them to leave, "If you don't mind, I've got to go to a doctor's appointment."

"Just a few more questions," one man said definitively.

Polly sat back down, worried by his tone of voice, "What more could you ask?"

Charisa shifted uncomfortably in her shoes and crossed her arms. She didn't want to mention that she kept hearing footsteps upstairs. "Ms. Engels, do you mind if I go upstairs and check it out?"

Pursing her lips, Polly replied, "No, not at all."

"Thank you," Charisa nodded and smiled plainly.

Back upstairs, Francesca and Murdock dispersed, hearing Charisa approach the steps. They ran into the bedroom where all the boys had holed up, waiting to go. Face began to speak, but Francesca forcefully shut him up with her hand. His eyes widened as she spat in a hushed tone, "Charisa."

Hannibal came up from behind Face and went to the door. Francesca quickly grabbed his arm, shaking her head, "Stop."

He faltered and looked back at her. She looked worried and anxious.

The door flew open. They all took a step back, waiting. Charisa walked into the room, less than shocked. She narrowed her eyes at Francesca, "You're Francesca Barrett, then."

Francesca nodded, "Yes, I am."

"Well…" Charisa pursed her lips. "You're going to end up in a bad place if you continue on with them," her eyes flicked to Face.

He bravely interjected, "She's not like that."

"Like what?" Francesca looked to Hannibal.

"Really? Like that's believable," Charisa laughed delicately and then looked back to the door.

Francesca finally caught on, "Oh! Oh no, I'm not…"

"Well, what's your ulterior motive?" she replied. "What is there to gain from getting yourself involved with them?"

Answering quickly, Francesca said, "We've been through too much for me to quit now."

Charisa looked to Hannibal, the man who constantly intimidated her. "I don't know what you're all up to, but whatever it is-"

"Don't pretend like you're going to take us back to prison, Sosa," Hannibal swallowed. "You're going to walk right back out that door and pretend like you didn't see us."

She froze and then turned back to the door. Before she left, Charisa addressed them all, "Good luck." Zeroing in on Francesca, she smiled, "One of these screwed up guys is gonna rope you in somehow." Her eyes drifted up toward Face for a moment before Face broke their gaze. She finally left, announcing down the stairs, "It's all clear up there."

Francesca gave a sigh of relief and leaned on Hannibal's shoulder, "So she's a good guy."

"We're assuming so," Hannibal looked over at her.

B.A. and Murdock stared at the pair who were intimate in the strangest of ways. B.A. smiled, "He's just gotta be a bit more outgoing, huh?"

Murdock rolled his eyes, "Knowing Hannibal that might take awhile."

Another pair of footsteps ran up the staircase. "I got the paper," Polly's voice whispered from the other side of the door. Francesca rushed forward and opened the door to find Polly.

"Thanks," she took the paper. "We'll be off then."

Polly whimpered slightly, "Oh…you better not let another few years go by before I see you again."

"I won't," Francesca came forward and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for everything you've done for us, Polly."

Hannibal gave an affirmative nod, "Yes, thank you."

The boys followed in a round of graces like little children who had just been told to say something.

Polly pointed to Hannibal and ordered, "Be safe."

"I can't guarantee that," he chuckled.

She gave one last beam of her old, yellowing teeth, and then turned out of the room. Francesca stepped away from the door and then looked to the window. "Let's get going." She folded her arms against the papers to her chest.

As Face, B.A., and Murdock began to open the window and clear out, Hannibal put his hand on her shoulder, "You alright?"

Francesca bit her lip, "Yeah…"

"You sure?"

She turned her head toward him, "I'd just like to know why you kissed me."

"And that will _remain _unknown," he lifted his hand from her. He went to the window, "How about I go down and you hand down the last of the bags?"

Francesca nodded, "Sure."

Fifteen minutes later, the boys and Francesca were all in Polly's old SUV, riding south. B.A. drove, Hannibal sat in the passengers seat, while Murdock and Face tittered the in the back. Francesca rested her eyes in the cramped, way-back. She thought about what was going to happen and what had happened. Clutching her cell phone to her chest, Francesca looked up to the rearview mirror before finally trying to find sleep.

Hannibal looked up at that moment. Their eyes met. He winked and quietly looked back to the road while Francesca wallowed in excitement.

Face interrupted her rest soon after.

"I think we're being followed," he said, looking back through the window.

The rest looked back for a split second before hearing the roar of an engine gaining on them.

"Charisa," Face swallowed. "God, what is she doing?"

"She's trying to be a double agent," B.A. reasoned. "And she's not being a very good one."


	21. Chapter 21: Love and War

**Another late chapter! I'm so sorry guys. A combination of writer's block and summer fever have caught up to me. **

**Keep reviewing. I love you guys. And if you don't review and like the story, alert it or fave it. I always appreciate it. **

Francesca stared out the back of the van as B.A. pressed down on the gas. The car behind them sped up slowly. "I really don't like her," she crossed her arms.

Face looked back, "Try dating her."

She glanced at him with a smirk on her face, but decided against speaking to him. "Just head toward the airport. The plane will be waiting, I'm sure. Meanwhile…" Francesca reached for a bag and unzipped it quickly, "Face, put on this fake nose." She pulled out a bag with the prosthetic inside, then dangled it in front of his face. "Everything's there for you, bud."

Face groaned, "Do I have to?"

"Take the damn bag," Francesca laughed. The car surged forward again, making her fall in between the back seats, "Woah."

B.A. laughed, "Sorry, but the car is gaining."

Everyone looked back again to see Charisa's van tailgating them. "Brake," Hannibal ordered B.A. "We can survive with a damaged bumper," he continued.

"Whatever you say, boss," B.A. lifted his hands off of the wheel and pushed down on the brake.

The other car smashed into their own. All of them could see the airbags piling up in their faces. "Move!" Murdock tapped B.A. on the shoulder.

"I'm going, I'm going," B.A. murmured and drove on again, merrily.

They arrived at the airport in good time and they all changed into more appropriate attire. Each of them separated in the lines, apart from Hannibal and Francesca who she had, indeed, conveniently made married. Making their way to the gate, Francesca smiled, "You know your bio, right?"

"Enough of it."

"Oh, please," Francesca scoffed. "You can never know enough about the person you're impersonating."

He grinned, "I know that my name is Robert Brent and that I'm a conservative politician who is being investigated on suspicions of money laundering. Meanwhile, I'm married to Roselle Neville, former French debutante…_you_." He poked her shoulder, "Is that enough?"

"You have to be able to talk to people and discuss your life," Francesca frowned. "For instance, if someone asked you '_Have you visited the house in Normandy recently?' _you wouldn't know which house they were talking about because," Francesca saw their gate up ahead and pursed her lips, "You didn't do the research. Luckily…you have me. And I did."

Hannibal frowned, "So have we visited the house in Normandy lately?"

She laughed to herself, "Well, _I _have."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he paused.

"Oh…" Francesca collapsed on one of the chairs. "It just means that I'm a bit more tricky than you know."

"I still…" he sat down beside her and then realized. "You're cheating on me! Oh my God."

"Sh! Pipe down," she hit his arm and giggled. "What are you so aggravated about? It's just a little game, isn't it?"

Hannibal still felt overcome with shock, "I don't believe it. Who are you cheating with?"

"Don't make me say it," she bit her lip, but subconsciously wanted to spill all of the secrets that she knew of the politician's wife.

He smiled, "Come on, this is so fun."

"Alright, if you _must _know…" Francesca fiddled with her skirt. "Edward McD-"

"Wait! With Face?"

"You didn't let me finish," she pinched his arm quickly. "Edward McDonald's twin."

Hannibal searched for names in his mind until he came across the final one. His eyes widened, "_Eliza _McDonald."

"Roselle is an in the closet bisexual," Francesca mumbled.

They exchanged a small glance, one which conveyed a sweet sense of friendship as well as cautiousness.

"Now boarding group 'A', one to thirty-one."

"That would be us," Francesca rose.

Hannibal followed closely behind her as they boarded the plain slowly, but surely, and founded their seats toward the front of the cabin. Francesca quietly pulled out an empty notebook. She pressed a pen onto the page, thinking about writing, but not actually doing so.

Watching her closely, Hannibal observed the pen creating a deep indent in the page that would certainly be seen on the following twenty. Francesca dropped the pen in her lap and closed her eyes. Eventually, she fell asleep after take off and leaned onto Hannibal's arm. There was a stillness and silent anxiety within him. His heart raced and he refused to move once muscle, afraid to wake the sleeping beauty.

_Flashback_

"So there's just a dead guy sitting there," Francesca pointed to the man in the corner. "Who tried to kill you…"

"We should probably leave," Hannibal grabbed her arm and tugged her down the staircase.

Francesca worriedly looked around, "You think there are more."

"Of course," Hannibal rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't go alone to attack…"

She raised an eyebrow, "Attack whom?"

"Attack…me," he said in a quiet fashion.

Crossing her arms, she smiled, "He may very well have been attacking me."

He shook his head, "It was me."

"You just want to be special," she laughed. "Now come on, my car is parked nearby."

They ran through the woods surrounding the cabin toward her black car. It was absolutely thrilling, the idea of being caught, but at the same time, absolutely frightening. If there were really more people ready to attack, it'd be awhile before they'd be safe. Francesca jumped into the car followed by Hannibal. They both started to relax after a few minutes. Francesca started to put the keys into the ignition, but noticed her hands shake. She quickly flinched back.

"You okay?" Hannibal looked to her with a frown.

Francesca didn't know what had gotten into her. A little fight never scared her, so what was it now? "Yeah," she said quietly.

"You sure?" he asked, alarmed.

She nodded quickly and then forced herself to start the car.

"Are you scared?"

"No! Stop asking!" she shouted, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Francesca," Hannibal interjected. "You're obviously not okay."

Biting her lip, she started to drive, "I think I'd be better if we stopped talking about me."

He turned away and peered out the window to check if there was anyone following them, "We're safe, by the way."

"Yeah," she lowered her head and turned onto the main road. There was a lot of busy traffic. "You want to go get some dinner?"

Hannibal shrugged, "I suppose."

Francesca pulled the car into the parking lot of a bar and took the keys out of the ignition. She stayed silent for a moment, her fingers shifting on the wheel.

Hannibal sighed.

They both said simultaneously, "I'm sorry." There was a pause and then they laughed quietly.

"What are you sorry about?" Francesca asked.

"I don't know," he smiled. "I just thought it would help." Hannibal leaned toward her, "What are you sorry about?"

She pursed her lips, "I'm sorry because you did absolutely nothing wrong and I'm just being emotional."

He put his hand on hers and rubbed it slowly, "It's about Tommy isn't it?"

"Yeah," Francesca tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Um…but I don't want to think about that right now."

"Okay," he smiled.

Francesca turned and kissed him lightly on the lips. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to call it a night."

"That's fine," Hannibal turned to get out of the car. "I'll just get a cab."

Touching his arm, Francesca pulled him back for a moment, "I'm so sorry."

"Think nothing of it," he smiled at her and kissed her forehead. Francesca put her hands against his neck and kept him against her.

"Why is it that whenever I am given an opportunity at happiness I just screw it all up?" she whispered against his skin.

"Well," Hannibal started, keeping his arms around her in a tight embrace. "Maybe it's because you don't think you should be happy."

Francesca replied, "I guess."

"You think it should be you."

"Yeah, I do."

"But I want to be happy."

"Then stop blaming yourself."

A few tears fell from her eyes and she pulled back from him, trying to hide the tears, "I don't know how."

"You have to see the big picture," he turned away and looked out through the windshield. It had begun to rain. "You couldn't have prevented cancer. No one could and it's not about deserving it or not. It happened, it's done. Francesca, you shouldn't be upset about what you can't change."

Francesca didn't reply.

"And he doesn't expect you to cry over him," Hannibal ran his fingers through her hair. "He wants you to go live out your life," he smiled. "So do it."

Smiling, Francesca leaned back in her seat, "You want to stay, then?"

Hannibal grinned, "I'd like that very much."

_End Flashback_

After landing in Brazil, the team made their way to the Copacabana. Francesca was still droopy eyed after relaxing on Hannibal's shoulder for practically the entire flight. She started mumbling to herself about dying her hair or something like that. While they walked, Face and B.A. sidled up to Hannibal.

"So…how was the plane ride?" Face asked in a casual tone.

"Fine," Hannibal kept walking forward without any falter due to his meddling friends.

"Anything happen?" B.A. prodded further.

"No," Hannibal rolled his eyes. "Can you lay off? She'll get suspicious."

B.A. laughed, "Hey, don't worry, bossman. We've got Murdock on the case."

Hannibal looked back to see Murdock prodding at Francesca's neck. She tried to stifle a laugh. She was ticklish around her collar and Murdock had found that out quite quickly after he began applying distraction for Face and B.A. "Nothing happened," he sighed. "Nothing _will _happen."

"Why are you so shy when it comes to girls? They're just girls," Face frowned

"No," Hannibal scornfully turned his head away. "_Women_ are much more than _just girls_."

Face turned away and made a face, repeating the words Hannibal had just said with a mocking tone.

B.A. put his arm around Hannibal's shoulders, "C'mon, don't give up on her."

He frowned, "It's just a lot of work."

"More work than eight years of missions?" Face asked. "Really?"

Shaking his head, Hannibal said, "You can't really compare the two situations."

"Yes, you absolutely can," Face retorted. "Think of love as a mission. What could me more of a battlefield than love itself?"

"A battlefield," Hannibal snapped and walked faster.

B.A. caught up and laughed, "Look, forget about what Face is saying. He knows nothing."

"What are you talking about?" Face gasped. "Do you realize that's what I do best?"

"You're not very good at keeping them around, are you?" the burly man poked aggressively at Face.

Face stayed silent and listened to the other two talk.

"What you've got to do is just be the guy she fell in love with, but make it very obvious that you are available to only her," B.A. stated. "Simple." He then turned around, "Hey, Murdock!"

The pilot looked up from what he was doing, "Yeah?"

He started to jog away from the group, "Bet I can beat you to the hotel."

Murdock started to jog away from Francesca, "No. You can't!"

"I'm beating you now!" B.A. winked at Hannibal. "Good luck, boss."

Face joined into the race as they broke off around the corner. Hannibal stopped in the sidewalk and looked back at Francesca who was walking toward him, smiling, "Hi."

"Hey," Hannibal shoved his hands in his pocket.

They walked in silence to the hotel. Each of them stole glances at the other, making sure to avoid eye contact. Neither knew what the other was feeling. But both of them wanted to know desperately. The secrets they were hiding were the same.


	22. Chapter 22: Photographic

**Baaaaack! After another hiatus. Sorry, guys. I appreciate that you're still interested and I am getting new readers (and old readers alike). So I hope you enjoy this. The next chapter will probably be a little like this one and then we'll get to the action (and maybe a little romance?). Read and Review and Alert and Favorite! Love you all. Stay tuned for more!**

"Give me your arm," Francesca said as they made their way into the hotel.

"Why?" Hannibal frowned.

"So we look like we're married, you dope!" she laughed to herself.

He held out his arm and Francesca wrapped her hand around it delicately. Her heart was beating quickly. They either got away with this or they didn't and that meant game over. Prison. She couldn't let them all down like that. This was her plan, her ideas, her responsibility. "Be cool."

"Be cool? That's the best you got?" Hannibal chuckled, pulling her up to the desk. "Reservation for Brent."

The man at the front desk smiled and nodded, "Ah, yes." He had a heavy Brazilian accent as he started to drawl about the Brents, "We've been expecting you."

"I suppose you have," Francesca started to peak around the hotel using the best French accent she could muster. "Please, just hurry."

Hannibal couldn't help but laugh to himself, "Yes, please."

The man nodded and pulled a key card from a drawer, "Identification."

He froze for a moment until he remembered the cards in his breast pocket which he reached for and comfortably handed to the receptionist. Francesca smirked and waited for the approval. She had done a great job with the fake IDs and the prosthetics. If something went wrong, she would let down not only herself, but she felt Hannibal. The receptionist smiled, "Your room is on the sixth floor, penthouse suite four."

"Thank you," Hannibal accepted the keycard and looked to Francesca.

As they walked away, he chuckled, "You upgraded that, didn't you?"

"Hey, thought we might as well have a little fun," Francesca laughed as they went to the elevator. She caught Face in the corner of her eye boarding an elevator up to his room.

When they got up to their room, Francesca threw her bag onto the couch and started to shuffle through it. She pulled out a blue dress and a suit which looked a bit wrinkled. She furrowed her brow and walked into the bathroom with both outfits. Hannibal watched her silently, hands in his pockets. Then, eh asked, "Would you like me to…do…anything?"

"No," she called from the bathroom. "Just relax. We have a big night ahead of us, John."

Hannibal walked into the bathroom and watched her for a moment. Her eyes were focused on the coat that she ironed delicately with ease. There was a knock that came at that point in time. Hannibal drifted out and opened it to find Face, Murdock, and B.A.

"You're really good at being inconspicuous, aren't you?" Hannibal murmured, rolling his eyes and walking back into the sitting room.

Closing the door behind them, the boys walked into the sitting room, each checking on Francesca in the bathroom. Face eyed Hannibal with a certain amount of sass. Hannibal leered at him and then looked out the window. "So, what's the plan?" Face shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Well," Francesca shouted from the bathroom as she came out, holding presumably Hannibal's suit. "First, we go down. Then we stake it out. And then we leave. And then we fight," she explained as she continued into the closet to grab a hanger.

Hannibal frowned, "That's it."

"Well, yeah," she turned to him and smiled.

"That's your…plan?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Francesca laughed. "Really, John, your way isn't the only way," she walked into the bedroom.

The boys all looked to him suddenly. B.A. whispered, "_John_? She calls you _John_?"

"Not normally," Hannibal smiled lightly.

Murdock cackled, "You're gonna get some soon, man."

"Shut up," he laughed back and sat down on the couch.

"Do you have a plan?" Face asked. "Y'know for…"

"If you have a plan, let me know," Hannibal said. "Because this is not my area."

Face smirked, "Let's go out onto the deck, Hannibal." He held out his hand toward him. "The four of us—Hey, Francesca!" he shouted to her. "We're going to check out the deck."

Francesca poked her head out of the bedroom, "Um…yeah. Sure. I'm going to get a shower. And when you're done, go back to your rooms and get some rest. It's already pretty late." Then she disappeared into the bedroom.

The boys looked out of the sliding glass doors to see the sun already setting below the horizon. Face rolled his eyes, "Sure, _mom_."

"Shut up," she laughed.

They could hear the water being turned on in the bedroom's bathroom. Face took that as his cue to lead the others onto the deck. He closed the door once they all were out and then said, "Here's the plan."

_Flashback_

"Hannibal, you want another?" Morrison gestured to Hannibal's empty glass.

Hannibal lifted his head and adjusted his bowtie, "I'm fine."

"You okay?" the older man laughed. "You've been fidgety all night."

"One, it's been half an hour since we got here. Two, I hate bowties…I feel like I'm choking," he chuckled and then picked up his empty glass, examining the few drops of alcohol sitting at the bottom.

"Well, you can loosen it at ten…that's when the party really starts," Morrison laughed.

The two of them were sitting at the bar of the grand Crystal Room. They had been invited to a large dinner being held for several veterans who were upheld in glory and honor. Hannibal, however, did not wish to be there. Morrison dragged him there for a short leave of two days.

Anyway, at the time, Hannibal was nursing a headache with scotch. He slipped his hand into his coat and felt around. He growled, "I left my cigars in my room."

Morrison frowned, "Well, that's a shame." Then he laughed boisterously, "Can't go a few minutes without one, huh?"

"Relax," Hannibal stood up from the stool he sat on. "Stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes," he ordered and then turned to go to the lobby. He went straight to the elevator and pressed the button. It would be awhile, since the hotel was bubbling with people. He looked to the long staircase that led down from the second floor for a moment, the cascading red carpet catching his eye. Then, he scanned the lobby.

The first person he saw was a young man, probably late twenties with light brown hair, greased back. He wore a charcoal gray suit and a red tie tucked into his jacket. The man had his square, thick phone. He seemed to be preoccupying himself while he waited, sometimes looking up to the staircase. Hannibal looked above the elevator at the floor counter. It seemed to be stuck up on the second floor, perhaps loading up or waiting. So he turned his attention back to the interesting man.

But the man had stepped forward to the stairs, looking up at the staircase. Hannibal followed the man's gaze.

At the top of the staircase stood a woman in a red dress. As he looked more closely, he recognized the face that was framed by golden hair.

Francesca.

_Of course, _he thought. She always turned up in the strangest places. While it was an exciting encounter, he was confused about the man at the bottom of the steps.

He still observed her, however. The dress was sleeveless and tight, hugging her tightly in the garment. As Hannibal's eyes traveled down Francesca, his eye caught the gold brooch on her hip, leading to the long and high slit of the dress down her leg. Francesca was met by the man at the bottom of the staircase as she descended. He pressed his lips to her cheek for a moment and then held out his arm toward her. Francesca accepted it with a small smile and said something to him. The man replied, causing her to laugh. Then, they walked quickly into the Crystal Room which he had come from.

Hannibal lowered his gaze. He saw that beside him the elevator had opened and was waiting for him. He ignored the elevator and dazedly walked after them. He looked to the bar. Morrison was no longer sitting there. However, he didn't have to look far.

Morrison had stopped Francesca and the man to greet them. The man held out his hand toward the general before Francesca hugged him. They had met a few times before and had the mutual friendship with Tommy. They talked for a few minutes, exchanging words about, Hannibal supposed, her brother. He lingered closer to hear her speaking.

"…keeping our hopes high," she had said. Something then caught her eye, "Oh, excuse me for a moment. I'm going to go congratulate Roy."

They let her part. Hannibal found it as the perfect chance to intercede, "Hello."

Morrison looked to him, "Hannibal! I'd like you to meet Henry Soto. He works for the CID."

Henry nodded toward Hannibal with a smile, "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Yes," he replied with a tone of skepticism. "You as well."

"Well, as I was saying," Henry continued from where he had obviously left off. "I've been working there for a few years and Francesca and I were recently working together. We travelled down here afterward."

Hannibal narrowed his eyes with envy, "Appears she's your date."

"Uh…" Henry blushed and shrugged slightly. "We didn't really go into it."

Before Hannibal could respond, Francesca returned with a flourish, "Sorry, I just had to-" Her eyes stopped on him. "Hello."

"Hello," Hannibal replied. Francesca looked both shocked and frightened in that moment their eyes met.

"How are you?" she said, losing the shock. Her mouth broke out into a small smile.

Henry turned to look at her, "You know each other, Francesca?"

"Yes," she didn't look away from Hannibal.

"I'm good," he laughed nervously. "And you?"

The conversation was like one between two exes who were completely unhappy with everything and just wanted the other again. Morrison quickly interrupted them, "Well, Hannibal and I were just on our…w-way. So maybe we'll see one another again tonight."

"Right," Francesca's smile faded.

"Well, come on, Checka. Why don't we go get a drink, huh?" Henry put his arm around her.

_Checka…_ Hannibal thought with a bit resentment toward the younger man.

"I could use a drink," she sighed. "Alright, so long, gentlemen."

They walked away from the two men. Morrison stared at Hannibal with intensity, "What was that?"

"What?" Hannibal frowned.

"That was…strange," Morrison grinned. "That was surreal."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, "Surreal…"

"Yeah. You exchanged a few words in such a slow fashion."

Hannibal didn't reply, watch the couple approach the bar, laughing. Francesca looked back at him and smiled crookedly.

"Hannibal," Morrison said gruffly.

"What?" he looked back.

He crossed his arms, "How long have you known Miss Barrett?"

"Oh my God, Rus-"

"Answer me, Hannibal."

"Since Tommy's wedding…" Hannibal replied cautiously.

"And have you come into contact with her since? Before now?"

Hannibal looked Morrison in the eye and then cast his gaze through a group of people laughing over by the dance floor.

"Alright then, that would be a yes."

_End Flashback_

"Tomorrow nigh, you're going to be a perfect gentleman. You're going to be the guy every girl wan-" Face began until Murdock cut him off.

"Look, it's not going to work," Murdock rolled his eyes. "You can't turn Hannibal into you."

"Hey, it works," Face held up his hand.

"Yeah, but your track record isn't so clean, huh?" B.A. prodded.

Hannibal leaned on the terrace, "Guys…"

"Here, be yourself. Act like you did when you were with her before…you know. Don't be distant," Murdock advised.

"But then she won't get the message," Face accused Murdock.

B.A. threw his hands up, "It's not about what we agree to. It's about what Hannibal thinks is best. We shouldn't plan this all out."

"But…Francesca will never know that Hannibal is hinting at this if we don't help him. He doesn't know anything about women!" Face scoffed.

"I'm right here!" Hannibal interjected.

He was ignored as they continued talking.

"If Francesca is interested, and she obviously is," B.A. began.

"You don't know that!" Face retorted.

"Then why'd she kiss him, fool?"

"I kissed her…" Hannibal tried to note while they continued to ramble on.

He was not retaining information they rattled off and began to think that this was all a mistake. After another few minutes, Hannibal intervened again, "Look, I appreciate the help-"

Face held up a hand, "Hannibal, shush."

"I don't understand why you-"

"_Shush_," Face reiterated.

"Face, for God's sake, I don't need help with this-"

Face then pushed his hand onto his lips with wide eyes. Everyone was quiet. In the room, they could hear Francesca humming loudly or singing quietly. They exchanged glances of worry. Had she heard? Did she know?

"Its fine, she's probably still in the shower," Murdock shrugged. "Let's just relax, enjoy Rio!" He turned back into the room and went to the couch, collapsing. "Auuuuuuugh, I'm tired." He looked to the bag next to him. "This looks fun."

The others walked in, seeing Murdock ruffling through Francesca's belongings. "Murdock!" B.A. scolded quickly.

Hannibal couldn't help but watch to see what Murdock found. He pulled out a few sheets of paper, which actually turned out to be pictures. "What are these?" Hannibal walked around the back of the couch to look into the pictures.

The first was a school photograph, the awful ones set against a blue background where a photographer told you to turn your head to the right even if there was a huge zit on that side of your face. It was a young girl. Hannibal supposed it was Tommy's seven year-old daughter, Jessica. Her lateral incisor was missing and her light brown hair was braided on either side of her head. Her eyes were the color of Francesca's.

The next picture was of not only Jessica, but also her younger brother, Andrew, as well as Francesca. He was a year and a half younger and a head shorter than his sister. They looked practically alike in every way except Andrew had dark blonde hair. Francesca lingered over them on the ground of yard littered with toys. She was kneeling, looking slightly at the camera with a smile, pulling back on Andrew's shoulder. Jessica had her head placed in the curve of Francesca's waist as she grinned at the camera, holding up a half-naked Barbie doll.

Murdock shuffled through them again. The third one was of Francesca and Tommy on the day of his wedding. She had his fingers on his bow tie, adjusting it slightly. He was looking to her with a little frustration in his eyes. But it was endearing, nonetheless Hannibal gazed at the photo, remembering the light pink dress Francesca was wearing that night and how the next morning, he fumbled with the zipper as he took it off of her.

There were a few more pictures of Jessica and Andrew. It was obvious the two were very dear to Francesca as her niece and nephew. Murdock pulled out the final picture. "Who's that?" he said with disgust, pointing to the man next to Francesca in the picture.

Hannibal took it out of his hand as Face and B.A. flanked him in order to get a better look. The man had both of his arms around Francesca's waist, holding her close to him. Tightly. It wasn't a hug, but instead, an embrace. His face was to the camera. He had tan skin and hazel eyes, and a smile near laughter. Francesca had her lips hanging slightly onto the skin of his neck.

Face raised an eyebrow, "Does she have a boyfriend, Hannibal?"

"She told me she didn't," Hannibal shook his head, a little shocked.

Murdock looked up from the couch, "There's writing on the back."

Hannibal flipped over the photo. Messy writing in black.

_October, 2009_

_ Do you remember this? We were happy, weren't we?_

_ I just want this again. I'm sorry…everything I did. It wasn't right. _

_ I can't imagine losing you. _

_ You're everything to me. So, please stay. _

"What are you doing?"

They all turned to see Francesca standing in a robe with her hair piled high over her head in a towel. There was a frown on her face. None of them could speak. The anger in her mounted and she growled, "What _the hell _are you doing?"

Hannibal still clutched the picture, looking ashamed and blushing.

Francesca glared at all of them, but especially Hannibal. It wasn't just an invasion of privacy. Those pictures contained her life, what was happening. They peered into her mind by looking at those pictures. "Whatever," she muttered and walked over to Murdock, snatching the pictures out of his hands. "You're unbelievable." Then she threw a glare at Hannibal as she forced the picture out of his hand. She put them into the bag and then held out her hand, "One of you give me a keycard."

"What?" B.A. asked ridiculously.

"I'm not staying here. I need my own room and I need it _now_," she sucked in her lower lip.

"Who's the guy?" Face questioned her.

"Dave," Hannibal said quietly.

Francesca shook her head, "Give me a key."

They all remained silent. Francesca picked up the bag, "Fine, you decide and then I'll accept whichever key."

She ran back into the bedroom and started to pack whatever she had taken out, which was not much, slamming the door behind her.

There was a long silence between them all until they heard hiccups in the other room. Hiccups that must've been biting back tears.

Hannibal walked up to the door, "Francesca."

She opened the bedroom door, holding her bag. Tears were held up in her eyes, "Key?"

"Why do you have a picture of Dave?"

"I refuse to talk about this, Hannibal."

Biting his lip, he pushed her further, "You either still love him or you feel bad for leaving him. And you wouldn't still love him because you said you never did, so it must be the other option."

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Francesca murmured. "Of all people…I thought you got it." She gasped for more air and spoke, trying to make sure the others couldn't here her in the other room, "You understood. I thought I could trust you again. I was just…so wrong." A few tears dripped down her cheeks. She began to say something, "I thought that-"

But she shook her head and pushed past him. Hannibal lifted his head, leaning on the doorframe. He could here her order B.A. for his keycard and his rebuttal. Hannibal knew that he would give her the key. Truth be told, Francesca frightened B.A. a bit. She frightened them all.

Francesca walked past Hannibal to get to the door. He tried to reach out and grab her arm, "Francesca, wait."

She didn't. She walked right out of the hotel room, leaving Hannibal waiting in front of the door. "That went well."

"Yeah…" Face trailed off.

"Well, she obviously won't be interested any time soon. Let's give up on that dream," Hannibal clasped his hands.

It would be awhile, he thought, until she trusted him again.

Murdock lowered his head, "It's my fault, I'm sorry."

Hannibal turned to the pilot and smiled, "It is."


	23. Chapter 23: Corner of Your Heart

_I am standing in the doorway of a bedroom. In front of me is a young girl with big blue eyes and gold hair who walks toward me. _

_ She calls me 'mommy'. I lift her into my arms and smile at her. I don't remember yesterday with her. But I've known her since the day she was born. I hear a man's voice. _

_ "Amelia!" _

_ The little girl's ears perk up and she wriggles in my arms. I put her down. _

_ "Francesca!" the man's voice shouts again. I turn and follow the girl down a flight of stairs into an empty room. Empty, except for a wooden chair facing away from me. The man is sitting, looking out a window. The girl, Amelia, rushes over to him and stands near his right arm. He reaches out to her and laughs, murmuring something in her ear. She turns away, smiling and runs past me. _

_ I turn to look where she's going. Nothing is there, just fuzzy blackness. _

_ I approach the back of the chair cautiously. _

_ "Francesca…" he says again, more quietly. _

_ It's _his _voice. I swear it. I reach out and touch his shoulder, "Yes." _

_ His hand touches mine. It's cold. I quickly spin in front of him. I can't see his face. My eyes won't let me see his face. His hands though. They're older than mine. The man stands. The man with _his _voice and hands. _

_ Suddenly, his lips are against mine. It's a kiss that I can only feel in my lips. I don't know where I am. I don't feel…anything but his lips. _

_ After he pulls away, I look away from him. _

_ I'm frightened. _

_ He asks me a question. I don't hear it. _

_ "What?" _

_ He keeps speaking to me in a muffled voice that I can't hear. "What?" I ask again. _

_ I fall forward into his arms. Suddenly, he's not there, no one to catch me. I'm starting to fall into deep blue water. I plunge in. It doesn't feel different. _

_ I can breathe. _

Francesca woke up with sweat dripping across her forehead. Her heart was racing and her hands were clenched into two fists. She sat up, realizing that she wasn't breathing. Taking in a deep breath, she relaxed and felt her hands retract.

She was shivering. Francesca hadn't noticed that until now. "Jesus," she murmured as she pulled the comforter up around her shoulders. Her stomach was gurgling. _Maybe I'm just hungry…_

As she got up off of the bed, her head began to swim, and there was a pain behind her eyes. Francesca let out a breath and reached out for the wall to lean on.

Then, there was a knock at the door. Francesca lifted her head and stumbled to the door. "Just a moment," she drawled in the French accent which she found hard to muster in the middle of the night. Upon opening the door, she squinted. The light was unbearable.

Hannibal stood on the other side of the door, "You okay?"

"Why are you here?" she grimaced, stepping back into the darkness.

"I wanted to talk to you," he lowered his head. "May I come in?"

Francesca closed her eyes, "Yeah, sure."

Hannibal walked in and closed the door behind him. He reached for the light switch on the wall near him and flipped it on. Hearing Francesca's anguished cry, he turned it back off. "What's going on?" he walked into the room to find her leaning against the wall, reaching for the bathroom.

"I feel awful," she choked out.

"I know…I'm to blame I realize…" Hannibal said, obliviously.

"No," she shook her head, holding out her hand. "I feel sick…like I'm…uh-" Francesca put her hand over her mouth and pushed past him into the bathroom. She vomited into the toilet, wrenching her neck in the process. Her breath caught in her throat.

Hannibal turned into the bathroom and found her bent over the toilet, heaving breaths, waiting for more. He knelt down beside her and pulled some hair out of her face. Francesca looked at him askance and reaching to flush the toilet, "Anyway, you wanted to talk."

"You feeling alright?" Hannibal said quietly. He couldn't see her face well, but he was almost sure that she had a frown on her face.

"I feel like I'm getting an ice pick lobotomy while being strangled. How do you think I feel?" she replied dryly, staring into the toilet.

Hannibal laughed, his hand hesitantly travelling down her back, "Well, I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier."

Francesca heaved again. He felt a little helpless just pulling the hair out of her face. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, "Thanks, I guess."

"But I can't help but wonder why you still have a picture of him," Hannibal continued.

She glared at him and flushed the toilet again, "I'm not still in love with him, if that's what you're insinuating."

"Why, then, do you have that picture?" he asked her.

Francesca swallowed, "I…don't know." Her head began to swell with dizziness again and she bent over, "Oh my God…"

He gasped quietly upon a realization, "Are you pregnant?"

"No!" she spat back and pushed his chest back with her hand. Then, Francesca lifted her head and smiled at him, "Idiot."

They both laughed. She shook her head, roaring with laughter, "I haven't had sex in seven months!"

Hannibal leaned back on the bathtub, resting his hands between his legs, howling with laughter, "Could you imagine? You'd be traipsing around avoiding being killed and…I can't…"

As odd as it was to be laughing at this, it was a strange concept to both of them. Their lives had been dedicated to helping America, not to families. Plus, it was the middle of the night and they both were slap happy.

"I'm going to throw up again," Francesca tried to stop laughing as she bent over the toilet.

_Flashback_

"So what have you done with Miss Barrett?" Morrison teased Hannibal.

Hannibal pursed his lips, "Its all business."

"_Please_," Morrison rolled his eyes. "I know that you've been with someone, but I never knew who. Until now."

"How do you know?" he looked to him with worried and embarrassed eyes.

"I didn't. But now…you just confirmed it," Morrison smiled smugly. "Now-"

Hannibal looked away, angry that he hadn't even noticed the stunt Morrison had pulled until it was over.

"How is she?"

"How _is _she…what does that mean?"

Raising an eyebrow, the general elbowed Hannibal in the ribs, "You know what a mean."

"Oh my God! Since when have you become such an animal?" he replied, trying to hold back a slight smile.

"Well, come on," he shrugged. "I'm your friend and we're guys. You can tell me all about it."

"Uh…" Hannibal bit his lip. "She's great…fantastic."

Morrison laughed boldly, "Of course she is, she's much younger than you."

"You're just jealous," he chuckled.

"Well, now you are," he gestured toward the couple who now sat at the bar, drinking. "Of the young Casanova."

"No, I'm not," Hannibal said unsurely.

Meanwhile, Francesca was listening to a story that was not so entertaining. Henry was drawling on about business, something Francesca was not superbly interested in at the moment. She finished her drink quickly and took him by the hand, "Why don't we dance?"

"Oh, I'm not really a dancer," Henry stalled.

She started to pull him off of the bar, "Come on. I'll make it worth your while."

In Francesca's mind, that meant a kiss. In his, it meant sex. Henry jumped forward, "Well, if you insist."

They walked out onto the dance floor where many people were mingling and swaying side to side to a Portuguese ballad. Francesca slipped one of her hands onto Henry's right shoulder put the other in his left hand. "So you know Colonel Smith?" Henry asked her as they joined the swaying couples.

"Oh, yes," she replied nervously. "We've met a few times."

"I guess through your brother," Henry reasoned. "I don't know…"

"What?" Francesca frowned.

"Nothing," Henry lowered his head as they danced a little longer.

Francesca looked over his shoulder every so often to catch a glimpse of Hannibal talking to Morrison. More than once did their eyes meet and when they did, Francesca couldn't help but blush. Henry and Francesca danced a little longer before his cell phone went off. He jerked away, slipping his phone out of his pocket.

"I thought you were going to turn that off," she bit her lip, crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry," Henry looked up at her quickly. "I have to take this." He then turned, pressing the phone to his head, and walked off into a sea of people. Francesca stood alone for a moment before receiving a tap on the shoulder. She turned, finding Hannibal standing in front of her. "Oh, you startled me," she smiled meekly.

"Where'd your date go?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"He had to take a call," Francesca sighed. "Um…so what are you doing here?"

"Morrison dragged me."

She giggled, "I figured you wouldn't come here voluntarily."

"You figured right," Hannibal smiled back at her.

Francesca pursed her lips and looked around them. She felt like a roadblock to all the dancers. "Do you want to dance?" she asked him, clasping her hands behind her back.

That's the question he had been waiting for. "Of course, but won't your date be jealous?"

"I honestly couldn't care less at this point," Francesca grabbed his hand.

Hannibal chuckled and nodded, "Right." They assumed a dancing position as the music began to switch.

_You must remember this__._

_A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh._

Francesca's eyes met his. They were both very quiet.

_The fundamental things apply__  
__As time goes by._

As they turned, Hannibal could see Morrison giving him a thumbs up. He had been the one to coax Hannibal to approach Francesca. It had only been luck that Henry Soto had scurried away to take a call. "So we're back to where we started," Francesca whispered, pressing herself closer to Hannibal.

He tightened his grip on her waist in response, "I see."

"You know? At Tommy's wedding?" she said, reminiscing. "How do you like Rio?"

"I haven't really seen much of it. But it's beautiful from the view here," Hannibal looked over his shoulder quickly.

"Oh, that's a shame," Francesca frowned. "It is beautiful."

_It's still the same old story__  
__A fight for love and glory_

"You know that I'll have to leave you when your date returns…" _  
__A case of do or die._

"I know."

_The world will always welcome lovers__…_

"Are we still…can we still…" Hannibal tried to formulate the right words.

_As time goes by…_

"Yes," Francesca smiled sweetly. "We can still have sex. I am unattached."

"As weird and unromantic as that sounds."

"Well, it's not really about romance, is it?"

Hannibal lowered his face toward hers, their lips lingering near each other, but not touching, "Maybe not, but I want you to keep coming back."

Suddenly, he pulled back as Henry appeared in sight. "I'll see you later then," Hannibal blushed.

"Oh," Francesca's face fell. "Right, I'll see…you."

Hannibal turned and walked away from her through the darting people back to Morrison.

Henry came up behind Francesca, putting his hands on her shoulders, "Alright. I'm all yours now."

She didn't take her eyes off of Hannibal, "Great."

_Oh yes, the world will always welcome lovers__, __  
__As time goes by._

Hannibal looked back slowly. Their eyes met. Something changed in him. He felt different. He didn't know why. This same change had taken place in Francesca only a few months earlier. But she knew exactly what it was.

_End Flashback_

Francesca and Hannibal were silent for a little bit of time before she spoke, "Airline food always does this to me. Why don't I ever learn my lesson?"

Hannibal smiled at her.

"Well, anyway," she folded her hands in her lap. "To answer your question…that picture." Francesca took a deep breath, pain building up in the front of her head, "That was taken by a friend of mine early in our relationship. You know…the honeymoon phase. And I was just going to leave him. I was walking out on him. He knew and he gave me the picture to remind me."

"The note."

"Exactly," she wistfully replied. "But I don't still love him. I keep the picture because then I know what it's like to be loved. With the picture, I can remember it." She lifted her head to look at Hannibal. "Doesn't that sound pathetic?"

He felt heartbroken. Francesca didn't know what love felt like. Or at least she couldn't remember. "What about Mel? The kids?"

"I guess I mean romantic love," Francesca bit her lip. "When you feel like you would die without them." She looked to him, feeling her stomach lurch, "I know that sounds dumb." Tears welled in her eyes, "Shit, I cry all of the time."

Hannibal looked at her like a man would look at a lost child. He reached out to her and wrapped his arms around her. Francesca buried her face in his collar.

"You're not dumb," he murmured, resting his cheek on her head. "Honest."

"You don't want to hug me, I'll vomit all over you," Francesca whimpered into his chest.

"I don't care," he clung to her.

Francesca felt warm in his grasp. Not oddly placed. "I guess I never asked, John," she lifted her head a little. "Is there anyone?"

"What?"

She pursed her lips, "Do you have someone you love?"

"Oh, no," Hannibal wanted to say yes, but then she'd ask more about her. And he'd have to tell her it was, in fact, herself.

"Do you want to love someone?"

"I mean…that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," he replied.

Slithering out of his arms, Francesca wiped tears out of her eyes. She reached up to the sink and got toothpaste and a toothbrush from her toiletry bag. Brushing her teeth, she smiled at Hannibal, the foam cresting her lips. Tears still poured down her face.

"You want to love someone," he continued.

She nodded, still brushing.

Hannibal extended his legs across the floor, intertwining them with Francesca's unintentionally. She stopped at that moment and looked at them. His long legs were warm against her bare ones. Then, she went on her knees to spit into the sink. After swishing water around her mouth, she went back to her position on the floor. Francesca started shivering again. The chills were the scariest part of the sickness. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to get warmer.

"Let's get you back into bed," Hannibal said quietly, standing.

"I d-don't want to g-get up-p-p," Francesca chattered.

He bent down and sighed, "I won't make you." Hannibal put his arms beneath her and lifted her as if he was to carry her across the threshold on their honeymoon. Francesca put both of her arms around his neck. After carrying her back into the room, Hannibal set her down gently onto the bed.

Francesca smiled awkwardly, teeth clicking in her mouth, "Th-Thank you." She reached out, bringing some of the covers up to her neck. "S-so c-cold," she managed to giggle before flinching into a fetal position.

In an act of sheer impulse, Hannibal laid on the other side of the bed, "Is this alright?"

Francesca's weary eyes met his and she felt a relief. She scooted closer toward him in a simple gesture that approved. Hannibal did the same, their bodies touching and their faces close together. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm. Pressing her head to his chest, Francesca breathed out and started to drift into a coma between sleep and consciousness.

Hannibal stroked her back, remembering the times that he had held her. He hadn't appreciated them enough, he figured. Thoughts ran through his head bout their relationship. Did she reciprocate his feelings? He knew that she flirted, but he didn't know when she was completely serious in her advances.

Only tomorrow would tell, he told himself.

Tomorrow, however, was too far away.


	24. Chapter 24: Why Do Fools Fall In Love

**Alright…so I know it's been a little bit longer than we all hoped, but I hope this is worth the wait. It's one of my longer chapters. And the ending…well, it's what I've been waiting to write. **

The next morning, Francesca woke up alone. She was warm and felt a million times better. Looking to the pillow beside her, she noted that it had been slept in. A smile crept across her face.

Hannibal had slept next to her. He had also left a note. She picked it up and scanned it quickly.

_I'll be by tonight, Miss Neville. Make sure to be ready to flirt with Edward's sister a little. You know…keep up appearances. _

_ H_

And she was almost sure that it wasn't an awkward sleeping. It was practically intimate. Francesca fell back on the bed, giggling to herself in glee. Now, she just had to wait until tonight to see them all again. To see him again.

She fell onto his pillow and inhaled deeply. Her heart burst. His smell, that of cigars and musk. His smell was that of a man. She screamed into the pillow and then laughed. Francesca felt fantastic.

Meanwhile, Hannibal was upstairs calmly looking out the window in the sitting room.

B.A. trudged into the room, rubbing his eyes, "What're you doing?"

"Thinking…" Hannibal murmured, putting two fingers against his lips.

B.A. stopped in his tracks, "No. No, you're planning, aren't you?"

"Hm?" Hannibal turned back to him.

"Planning," he laughed. "You're planning."

"So?"

"So…" B.A. sat down across from him in a pink chair. "You're taking this right out from under Francesca's nose."

Hannibal grazed his tongue against his teeth and then spoke, "Francesca doesn't even have a plan, I'm sure she won't object to me being a little helpful."

"Why?"

"Because she has lost sight of our real goal," he glared. "She thinks it's all about the act, about putting on a show. She lost sight of what's really important."

B.A. chuckled, "Tough words for a hopeful future flame."

"Bite me," Hannibal got up off of the couch and ran his hands through his hair.

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "I know you came in late last night. What happened?"

"Nothing important." He then went into the bedroom and didn't come out until he went to pick up Francesca.

As the day wore on, Francesca began her preparations. She started by getting a shower and then doing her makeup and styling her hair.

Finally, she slipped on the blue dress that had a semi full skirt that floated all the way down to the floor. She pulled up the top, strapless, which she hated, but Polly only had time for that.

Francesca folded her hands in front of her, staring in the mirror. "You look great," she said quietly. "Does that sound narcissistic?" she asked herself. "I guess it doesn't matter what I think. Will John…think I look great?"

Suddenly, she stopped, "I'm talking to myself in a mirror. About a guy who left me five years ago. Well. I'm eternally fu-"

A knock came from the door. Her eyes widened, turning toward the door. Quickly, she folded her hands in front of her chest and sputtered, "I know I don't talk to you a lot, God, but help me get through this night so that maybe I can have a good time. Also, please help me to ignore the awkwardness between me and John since we slept in the same bed last night." Francesca started for the door and stopped again, "And before I forget, please help us avoid death. Thank you…amen?" She then went to the door and flung it open.

In front of her stood the dashing, brown haired, Hannibal Smith. John. Or as she would call him now, Robert. He wore his tuxedo with poise, carried himself differently than how he normally did.

"Hello, Roselle," his husky voice was a bit lower than usually.

"Don't you look nice," Francesca drawled, holding back a shrill giggle. She let him into the room and closed the door behind him.

"So are you ready?" Hannibal asked her as she retreated back into the room.

Francesca lowered her head, "I just need the ear piece you said you'd bring." She held out her hand to him.

Hannibal shoved his hand in his pocket and brought out the piece. Handing it to Francesca, their hands touched for a brief moment. He flinched back as soon as she took it. "So," she looked at the small device in her hand. "Last night…"

"We won't discuss it," Hannibal cleared his throat turning away from her.

"Right," she sighed. "When did you leave?"

"About five in the morning. You were out cold."

"Did you have a nice morning, then?"

Hannibal recalled the sneaking back into the king sized bed he was sharing clumsily with B.A., both of them on either the left extreme or right extreme of the bed. However, B.A. was sleeping soundly, his snoring gracelessly echoing through the suite. Hannibal was running on four hours of sleep that he had acquired resting next to Francesca, "Great morning."

"Uh…we can get going if you like." Francesca put in the ear piece as she went past him to the door. They walked down toward the Crystal Room. Memories flooded back to Francesca like tears did last night, filling her with an uncomfortable sense of security, even with the chance of being caught.

"Roselle!"

She turned quickly to see a woman who she recognized to be Eliza McDonald approaching her. "Robert," Francesca bit her lip. "Give me some privacy with lovely Eliza."

"Right," he backed away from her and then darted into a sea of people.

Francesca pursed her lips nervously, "Eliza, darling."

Eliza had dark brown hair that she wore in a loose bun, light brown eyes, and tan skin with a beautiful complexion. She was clad in a dark green dress that hugged her slight curves down to her feet.

"You and Robert look like you're on the outs tonight," Eliza playfully tapped her shoulder.

"Why?" Francesca asked in her mock French accent. "How?"

"Well, you're normally quite intimate, aren't you?" Eliza fluttered her eyelashes at the woman she thought to be Roselle. "Did he find out?"

Rolling her eyes, Francesca replied, "Of course not. Robert doesn't even know that I've been out of the country four times this past month, let alone…" she gestured between the two of them. "He doesn't notice me anymore."

The faux-Robert, however, did notice her. Hannibal stood at the bar, glass in hand, talking to a few senators. They all were chatting about the economic crisis, laughing almost inappropriately at it. As he drifted out of that conversation, he observed the way Francesca interacted with Eliza. They were both very touchy, intimately conversing. His protective impulse surged within him.

He had to learn how to tame it, at least for tonight.

"New nose?" Eliza pointed at Francesca's face.

"Uh…" she faltered. "Yes…temporary. I was just experimenting."

"It looks nice," Eliza leaned forward and purred into her ear. Then, she took her by the hand and pulled her to a space near the bathroom, a small corner unoccupied by people. "Roselle, I never really did get over the fact you didn't call," she grinned enticingly. Eliza swiftly pressed her lips to Francesca's.

As much as Francesca wanted to pull back, she couldn't. Not only for the act, but it was actually enjoyable. Eliza pressed her hands to the sides of Francesca's head, almost trying to get away from the kiss, but not letting herself. Finally, the passion subsided and she froze, staring at Francesca. Her eyebrows laced together in a confused frown. Slowly her face melted back into a serene smile, "I'm in room 426…meet me there tonight after your husband passes out."

Francesca considered that for a moment and then shook it off. She had just almost been caught by her character's lover. She should not be thinking about a late night escapade.

Eliza swayed past her gleefully and shouted, "Eddie!"

Assuming it was Face, Francesca didn't turn around, but instead let the shock consume her for a little bit of time. She definitely didn't think that Eliza McDonald would have the gall to kiss her like that. Roselle must've been one passionate woman. She ran back into the room with a lack of elegance and rushed over to Hannibal. "Robert," Francesca said hoarsely.

He looked to her with slight amusement, "So what happened with Eliza?"

"She-" she started coughing. "I need a drink."

Hannibal lowered his voice, "Well, I don't know Roselle's favorite."

"Bartender," she reached out and grabbed a young man's arm in a demanding fashion that perfectly characterized Roselle Neville. "Dry martini, quickly," Francesca said to the man who immediately followed her instruction.

"What's going-"

She held up a hand to make him stop. Clearly, Francesca was not going to speak to him until she got that drink. After a little bit, the man handed the drink to Francesca who didn't even utter a thank you. Hannibal couldn't tell if it was in the spirit of Roselle or because she was up in arms about something.

Francesca reached out and pulled him back toward the area that Eliza had just shown her so that she could tell him what just happened.

"What are you doing?" Hannibal gave her an incredulous look.

Taking the drink in her hand, Francesca brought it to her lips, and drank the entire thing. Finally, gaining back her sense she mumbled, "I needed that."

"Fr—Roselle?" Hannibal stuttered.

Francesca looked up at him and sighed, "Eliza kissed me and-"

"What?" his eyes widened. "You'd think she'd be a bit more secretive considering there are about five hundred people here."

"That's not the point," Francesca lowered her eyes. "The point is, she almost figured out that I was not Roselle. So let's get the info we need and get out."

_Flashback_

"Why don't we take this up to my room?" Henry slurred, running his hand down Francesca's back.

She could smell the liquor on his breath. He was drunk and she was buzzed, but had enough sense not to let him take her upstairs. Francesca knew that Hannibal would be around, waiting for her. Or at least she hoped. "No…Henry, I want to dance a little longer," Francesca giggled. "Besides…we agreed-"

"I don't care," Henry put his hands on either side of her head. "I want to…" He started to murmur something inappropriate in her ear. She pulled away, but Henry found a tight grip on her right hand. "Where're you going?"

"Let go," she whined and jerked her hand away from him. "Don't touch me, okay?"

Henry continued to pursue her, "I knew there was something up with you."

Francesca continued walking out into the lobby, "What does that mean?"

Stumbling toward her, Henry spat, "You don't have a boyfriend and you don't let anyone get close to you. But you flirt with everyone and then just pull away."

"For your information, Agent Soto," Francesca confronted him boldly. "I am very much involved with someone."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure," Henry said to her in an unnaturally loud voice, making people turn to look slightly. "Considering you have no photos in your wallet, no one who ever calls you…no one you talk about like that."

"You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying," Francesca turned away from him.

Hannibal and Morrison walked out of the Crystal Room then to see the small argument going on. Observing from the shadows, Hannibal watched with restrained belligerence. Morrison coaxed him further back. There was no need for any trouble right now.

"I know exactly what I'm saying," Henry approached her with a strange glint in his eye. "You're lonely and you don't let anyone near you. You think you're too good for everyone. And that's why you're single. Plain and simple."

"I will not…take this from _you_," Francesca choked out, feeling her jaw tighten and her hands ball up into tight fists.

Henry threw his hands up, "What're you going to do? Hit me?"

"I would if we weren't in front of all of these people," she said through grit teeth.

"Sure…" Henry scoffed.

"Fine," Francesca turned back around. "Try me," she spat. "Why don't we take this outside?"

Shrugging, Henry laughed, "I don't see how it could hurt."

Francesca turned toward the French doors that led out onto the pool deck and then the beach. She speedily walked toward them. This man did not know what she had in her. But Henry, being drunk and also a bit dumb, followed her.

As they walked out, Hannibal shook his head, "I gotta go after them."

"Well, yeah, the show'll be good," Morrison joked, but Hannibal did not find it funny. "I'm just kidding, Hannibal, relax."

"It wasn't very funny," Hannibal glared as they walked slowly out of the hotel after Francesca and Henry.

There were others slowly congregating after overhearing the spat between the two. Little did they know what they were about to see.

Francesca kicked off her shoes and walked onto the sand. It was dark on the beach, but you could see the glints of everyone's eyes and the faint outline of their figures. She knew exactly which one was Henry.

"Whatcha got, little girl?" Henry teased.

"I'm surprised that you're challenging me after seeing what I did to those boys back in Wyoming two weeks ago," Francesca turned away from him.

At least ten people including Hannibal and Morrison were gathered at the pool deck to watch and see if this fight was just a myth.

"Please, that was luck," Henry guffawed loudly.

Suddenly, Francesca turned on her heels and threw a punch that struck Henry right across the jaw. Her jaw was clenched in a large under bite, "Was that luck, Agent Soto?"

There was a collective gasp from the audience. Hannibal rushed forward toward Francesca.

Henry had his hand pressed to where she had hit him, "Jesus Christ!"

"And there's more where that came from, you son of a-" Francesca lunged toward him, hands at the ready. Hannibal, however, grabbed her wrists, pulling her back. "Let me go!" she screeched.

"I thought you were kidding!" Henry spat in her face.

"_Vite di te, figlio di una cagna! Vorrei un pugno di tua madre in utero prima che tu nascessi_," Francesca threw back in his face, trying to get away from Hannibal's tight grasp. He couldn't help but laugh a little at what she said.

"Francesca!" Hannibal finally got a strong hold on her and yanked her away from Henry's eyesight. "Calm down."

She started to let up on her struggling and pleaded, "John, please. Please…"

"Francesca, stop. Stop."

Morrison escorted Henry back into the hotel to get cleaned up and announced to the people watching, "Nothing to see hear. Move back inside."

Francesca let up after another minute and sighed, shouting, "I hate him! I hate him so much."

"Here," he put an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go back inside."

"I don't want to," she turned away and started walking off down the beach.

Hannibal rushed after her silently. They walked together for a good fifteen minutes before asking, "What did he say to you?"

Brushing back her hair, Francesca relayed the story to him. As she told the part about being involved with someone, Hannibal shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. "Who are you involved with?"

"What?" she asked with a frown on her face.

"_Who_ are you involved with?" Hannibal asked again, more forcefully.

She bit her lip, "Well…he's this guy. And he's got black hair…green eyes. Uh…really pale skin. I actually think he's a vampire."

Hannibal laughed, "Sounds like you're making that up."

"I'm not, I swear," she held up her hands.

"You're lying."

"Am not!" Francesca laughed.

They had walked onto a barren part of the beach, only inhabited by a few small homes. Francesca sat down on the sand and sighed, "I'm tired."

"Let's walk back."

"I don't want to!"

"You're acting like a little child!" Hannibal laughed at her and sat down beside her.

Francesca rested her head on his shoulder, "Thanks for dragging me outta that."

"Any time," Hannibal swallowed.

Lifting her head, Francesca put her hand on his cheek, turning his head toward her, "You seem distant. Talk to me."

Hannibal's lips parted for a moment before he pressed them against hers. She flushed and moaned slightly beneath his lips, words forming in her throat. Quickly, she pulled away, "John…"

"What?"

"I... don't…can't…"

"Relax," he whispered into her ear.

Her heart beat more quickly. Somehow, her words couldn't be held into her mouth. If she didn't say anything, she'd be awkwardly hiccupping out sounds. Francesca looked out over the water, feeling Hannibal's lips press against her ear. He whispered, "You're involved with me, aren't you? Your loyalties are to me."

Francesca laid back on the sand, closing her eyes. Hannibal leaned over her, their lips touching, not in a kiss, but a slight, intimate moment. She then spoke against his lips, "I think you're intensely intriguing, Colonel Smith."

_End Flashback_

Francesca pulled out a very small device from her clutch and started talking to Hannibal again, "Look, just walk around…Mingle."

"I know what to do," he frowned.

She started to put the device into the corner behind her, "'Course you do."

"You bugged the place?" Hannibal asked, referring to the little device.

"Yeah," she nodded. "That was a given. What do you think I'm stupid?"

Hannibal blushed and turned away back to the party.

After they left the corner, they continued through the people, talking. At ten thirty that night, they still didn't have any information. Francesca had sat down at the bar with another dry martini, sipping it gracefully.

She was approached by Murdock in his costumed, made up self. He sniffed his nose in the air and talked to her in a northeastern inflection. There was a sense of intense urgency in his voice, "You and your husband have to leave."

Francesca sat up, "Why?"

Lowering his voice and mumbling in her ear, "Because the real Robert and Roselle are here."

Francesca's eyes widened. She grabbed Murdock's hand, "I bugged the room. You have to get them _all_."

"I gotcha. I'll find 'um," he said, nodding his head.

She turned away from Murdock and got up to find Hannibal, only to find him ten feet away, trying to get her attention. Francesca rushed toward him and grabbed onto his coat lapels, "We have to get out of here."

Hannibal's hands surged toward her elbows. He felt like he needed to protect her even though he knew she'd resent it. "Come on," he murmured to her. They ambled through the crowd, hands grasped tightly and made their way back to the lobby.

"Do you see them?" Francesca tried to look through the thick of people, but couldn't.

"We don't have time to look, come on!" Hannibal yanked her toward the pool deck which they had gone to so many years ago. They ran out onto the beach and kept going, Francesca tripping over her skirt. She stopped quickly and tore of the skirt to reveal a pair of jersey pants that seemed to be connected to the bodice. Hannibal turned around and smiled despite himself.

"Don't gawk at me like that," she pushed his shoulder and then ran off, leaving the skirt behind and holding the clutch still in her hand.

They didn't stop for a long while until they were both out of breath. Francesca collapsed onto her knees, hands in front of her, heaving breathes. Hannibal bent down beside her, "You okay?" His hand slid over her back.

She nodded, "Yeah. I haven't done that in a long time."

"Let's go find somewhere to wait for a message from the boys, okay?" Hannibal helped her up off of the ground. They walked toward the inland where there was much hubbub surrounding them. Somehow, they had come all the way down to the more alive part of town with those looking for a good time, drinks, laughs, and friends.

They snaked through the town, avoiding the dark alleys and finally came upon a small hotel which was called B O D, since most of the letters on their light up sign had burnt out. Francesca and Hannibal were eerily comforted by the dirty hotel with cheap fixtures.

Approaching the desk, Hannibal spoke quietly to the female receptionist in Portuguese. Francesca clung to his arm, discomfited and nervous. However, she felt extremely safe even near him. She knew he'd take care of her. Without knowing it, Francesca pressed her face against his arm, trying to hold back hot tears of frustration. Hannibal jumped slightly, but let it happen. He received a key from the woman and he led Francesca to walk up a set of steps that creaked as they went up. At the third floor, they found their room. Hannibal had to kick the door open gently.

It smelled of must and smoke, but neither of them cared.

They were both quiet. Hannibal watched Francesca as she walked into the room and went to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly. Her shoulders hunched slightly, "It's awful, isn't it?"

"What?"

"I screwed everything up. Roselle and Robert ended up realizing that their tickets were missing, they got here. Now everyone knows we're imposters and…what will happen to the rest of them?"

"You didn't screw up…and they'll be fine. I know them well enough to be sure of that," Hannibal sighed. "Francesca…" her name tickled his tongue. "Francesca, please…just rest for now."

Francesca turned. She could only make out the defined contours of Hannibal's face. The dark swelled around them, cradling them gently in a thick mass of nothing. Hannibal lifted his hand and touched her cheek. Francesca willed herself not to slip from his grasp, not to run.

There were no words either of them could say. They stood there with wide eyes. Hannibal stepped closer, sensing Francesca's fear. He slowly brought his face to hers and stopped only centimeters from her lips. She could feel his breath against her face, warm and stained with the scent of cigars. Hannibal then pressed his lips to hers in a soft and careful kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as she put one hand on his bicep. She accepted the kiss, nervously, as her heart beat faster and butterflies flitted around in her stomach.

Hannibal reached for her other hand and entwined her fingers with his. He hadn't completely realized until now but those five years apart had taken a toll on him. He had missed her.

Francesca suddenly drew away and tried to go, "I'm dizzy."

"That's normal."

"I feel like I'm going to vomit," she mumbled.

He held onto her, "It's the butterflies."

"Please, just let me go," Francesca sucked in her lower lip, her voice wavering.

Hannibal shook his head, "I want you to stay

She slipped away finally, on the verge of tears, "I-I can't- No-" There then was a sense of conclusiveness in her voice, "No."

"Francesca."

"You…killed me," she gritted her teeth. "You left me after I told you I loved you. And now you want more from me."

Hannibal shook his head, "That's not how it is."

"Yes it _is_," she said, crying out. "You'll hurt me again. Let go."

"I won't," Hannibal held her hand though she tried to slip away. "I promise, I won't."

"No, you can't just-"

"I _won't._"

Looking back at him, Francesca found his eyes in the shadows. They were weak, they were vulnerable, they were eyes for her. Hannibal waited for her. He wanted her to stay and give him another chance, "P-please…" His voice was weak. He was defeated.

Francesca's fingers tightened again in his. She gave him a simple nod, at a loss for words. Hannibal pulled her closer to him and lowered his head so that his lips were barely touching her forehead, "I love you." His lips traced across her skin. It was like a promise, but it was more. The feeling of words on her skin was like a scar.

Francesca whispered faintly, "I've loved you." She murmured, "I don't think I ever really stopped."


	25. Chapter 25: Strange Love

**Oy, writer's block again. Oh well. I'm aiming to please. Now we've got this established relationship, what can I do to mess with it? Keep reading and reviewing guys! Love ya!**

Hannibal tilted Francesca's head upward delicately with his hand and pressed his lips to hers again. Elation filled both of them. As she broke the kiss, Francesca smiled, "I can't believe that you actually…"

"I know. I can't believe it either."

Leaning her head down onto his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck, she sighed blissfully, "Where do we go from here?"

Hannibal frowned, "I don't really know."

"Because…" Francesca swallowed. "We kinda just jumped to the 'I love you' part. Skipped everything else."

"Is that a bad thing?" he looked down at her.

"I don't really know," she smiled. "When did you know?"

He bit his lip, "Know what?"

"That you loved me," Francesca raised her head. Their eyes met in the darkness. She felt herself flush. "I mean…You know when I did."

"I guess I loved you for awhile and I didn't really know it," Hannibal murmured with a little hesitation.

Francesca took one of her hands and put it against his chest with a smile crossing her face. "This is so weird," she looked away, laughing lightly.

"Why?"

"Because you never gush over anything," she giggled.

"I'm not gushing!" Hannibal scoffed.

"Yeah, you are!" Francesca shot back. Hooking her arms around his neck, she lifted herself onto her tippy-toes and said in a calm and sensual manner, "Don't worry…I like it."

Hannibal laughed, pulling her up off of her feet. She screeched in surprise and then rest comfortably in his arms after hooking her legs around his back. Francesca gave him a firm kiss on the lips, feeling her inhibitions slip away. "Now, put me down," she smiled.

"Well, if you say so," he shrugged.

"Oh, no, please not-" Francesca worriedly exclaimed as he dropped her onto the bed gently. She started to laugh. "God, I hate you."

Hannibal didn't reply, shaking off his coat. Then, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up to the crook of his elbow. Francesca sat up slowly and pushed herself further back on the bed. He looked to her with a shy smirk, "You know, the boys are the one that convinced me to tell you."

"Well, then you're forever in their debt then," Francesca smiled delicately to him. A feeling of assurance and absolutely pure love filled her as she looked at him. His arms were crossed against his chest, looking down at the ground, almost in an embarrassed fashion, and his hair was in his eyes, too long and too…brown. She loved his grey hair, how mature he looked. And he loved her. The more she thought about it the more she tingled on the inside and that made her want to scream out that he was hers. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about how right you are," he lifted his head, looking at her.

Francesca crawled forward on the bed. She knelt in front of him and cocked her head to the side, "I love you, John." She put her hands on either side of his face, "You're lucky to have friends who care so much about you. Who care so much about me, I suppose. And honestly, they were indebted to you for getting them out of all that crazy shit they cause."

Hannibal blushed and touched her wrist with the tips of his fingers, "I love you."

"I never thought I'd get those words out of you, let alone twice in one evening," Francesca brushed some of his hair away from his eyes.

Leaning down, Hannibal kissed her zealously. Passion had been burning inside of him for a long time. Francesca ran her hands down his chest searching for buttons that she could undo. Suddenly, she fell back in submission to him, which he gladly accepted. However, he was a little confused by her outfit and how exactly it came off.

"Really?" Francesca rested her head on the bed. "You can't just rip it off of me or something?"

Hannibal frowned in an amused fashion, "Contrary to popular belief…"

She took it off quickly as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and they met again in a fervent kiss. "It's been way too long, John," Francesca moaned breathlessly. "Five entire years…"

"Well," he straddled her proudly and slipped his hands through her hair. "It's not over yet."

_Flashback_

"Intensely intriguing?" Hannibal smiled. "Now which of my features do I owe that comment to?"

Francesca bit her lip, "Every single one of them." She then laughed, "I love Rio. I love…everything."

"You sound a little drunk," he burrowed his face in the crook of her neck.

"I am," she said. "I am a little drunk."

"You're a silly drunk."

"Do you like it?" she lifted her head worriedly. "Because I can be mean drunk, horny drunk, or all of the above drunk."

Hannibal put his finger against her lips and stifled her speech, "I think you need to be a quiet drunk."

"I don't know if I can do that," she giggled. "I'm not even that drunk," Francesca sighed.

He rested his head next o yours, embracing her. He then murmured in her ear, "Why do you like me?"

She stayed quiet.

"Like…why do you keep coming back? I'm just an older man who is intimidating and…I don't know what else I am. But no one should be enticed by me at all," he continued quietly in her ear.

She turned her face toward his and gave him a soft and small kiss. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. Francesca opened her mouth slowly like was going to say something, but then closed it. That did not go unnoticed by Hannibal. "What?" he asked her, letting his lips seductively drag across her jaw.

"I don't know."

He smiled, "You know."

Francesca felt her breath catch in her throat. Her eyes were wide as she turned her head to look at him. "I keep coming back because," she paused and then continued. "I keep coming back because I love you…very much." Before Hannibal could even respond, she pressed her lips to his, making sure that his words could not be heard. She reached down, slipping her hand through his hair.

Hannibal didn't know how to react. Luckily for him, Francesca was quick enough to shut up his probable stuttering.

And the next thing he knew, she was on top of him, biting his lower lip, kicking off her heels. He grabbed her shoulders, forcibly pulling away her lips.

Their eyes met. He swallowed once, gulped was actually the more appropriate word.

Because the words were trapped in his throat.

_I love you_. _Very much. _

Hannibal felt warmth inside of him, but at the same time and inexplicable grave cold that wavered up and down his throat.

He loved her. Very much.

But he wasn't just about to go right out and say that.

"I'm sorry," Francesca whispered. She felt like she was going to cry. She put her hands on either side of his head and sifted the yellow sand through them. "I'm really…sorry," she looked down her chest and then stood up, one foot between his legs. "I'm going to go back to the hotel."

Francesca then took of quickly. Hannibal didn't even get a chance to sit up and look down the beach before she was gone. He folded his knees up to his chest and looked out over the dark and dank waters.

He stood up slowly and walked back to the hotel with his hands in his pockets.

What should he say to her?

Nothing. He didn't want to say anything to her.

_I have to say something. What can I say? _

Hannibal didn't want her to hurt. He had no intention of hurting her.

_I love her._

He ran into the hotel and then froze. He didn't know her room number. All that time he was being romantic and mysterious he had forgotten about that. He didn't think that he'd be the one chasing after her that evening.

Simply, he went up to the hotel desk and asked.

"Room 312," the man at the front desk said with weary eyes.

Hannibal sprinted up to the room and knocked. He waited. The door opened. Francesca was standing there in a robe, obviously naked beneath it. She had an odd smile on her face and her hair was wild.

"What happened to you? Stick your finger in an electric socket or something?"

"I was just about to take a shower," she started to untie the belt that kept the fabric together. "Care to join me?"

"What's going on?"

Francesca turned her head slowly toward the bathroom, "Okay, you either say yes or you leave."

Hannibal knew he should say no, but how could he say no to that situation?

_End Flashback_

Francesca and Hannibal lay side by side. They were both breathing heavily, looking up at the ceiling. And they both had stupid smiles on their face.

"Well, then…" Hannibal began, clearing out his throat.

Francesca heaved a sigh and then turned her head to look at him. She reached her hand out and pushed some sweaty strands of hair out of his eyes. Hannibal met her gaze and smiled at her.

Blushing, Francesca looked back at the ceiling. "You're fantastic…" she closed her eyes.

"I hope you're not just saying that because you just had the best sex of your life," Hannibal said smugly.

"_Please_," Francesca rolled over to him and rested her hand on his chest. "You are far too confident in your abilities." She kissed his cheek, "I love you."

Hannibal pressed his lips to hers for a moment and then wrapped his arms around her shoulder, "I'm confident because it's true."

Francesca started laughing and murmured, "Alright, it may be true. But you're fantastic because you are sweet and you're brave and you love me back."

"I don't know…" he said sarcastically.

"I'll never have sex with you ever again," Francesca burrowed her face in his neck.

"Oh, I'm just kidding."

They were both silent for a long time before Francesca called out his name, "John?"

"Yes, darling."

"What if this is all just s dream?" her lips traced across his skin. "What if I wake up and you're gone?"

"I'm not going to be gone," he assured her. "I'm never going to leave you like that again."

Francesca reached out for one of his hands and grabbed his hand, "Would you ever marry me, John?"

Hannibal closed his eyes. He could picture in his mind a future with Francesca. He could see waking up next to her and coming home to her. Laughing with her. Kissing her goodnight. Protecting her. And most of all, getting those glances that he always noticed couples giving one another. Those knowing glances. He had wanted that for a very long time, but it had become so unattainable.

"Yes. Would you marry me?"

"Is that a proposal?" Francesca lifted herself up off the bed. "But yes, I would." Then, she groaned, "I'm really sore."

He chuckled and turned onto his side, "You're welcome."

"Shut up!" she spat with a smile on her face. "You're ridiculous."

Hannibal put his hand around the side of her neck, catching some of her untamed golden hair. "I'm not ridiculous."

"_Right_," she rolled her eyes. "You're in love."

"Fair enough."

Francesca smiled at him endearingly and then bit her lip, "I'm so confused."

"About what?"

"Well, what do we have to do? To get to that point, you know?"

"The point where you don't get sore from sex or…"

Francesca, though she found it funny, whapped him on the arm softly and then stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hey!"

"I mean marriage."

Hannibal was quiet for a moment. All those ideas that he had just gotten vanished. Marriage was now again a foreign word that scared him. "I don't know."

"I'm scaring you, aren't I?" Francesca frowned. "I'm moving to fast," she lowered her face to his chest. "I'll slow down." She started to talk over his silence, "I used to think I'd end up alone. I never thought I'd find…another guy I loved as much as you. I never thought I'd find anyone I-"

Hannibal turned his head toward the door, "Do you hear that?"

Francesca went silent, lifting her head.

Faint voices were coming form outside the door. The light danced beneath the door frame. Shadows. Francesca sat up, very frightened. She pulled up the covers against her chest. "Who do you think it is?"

Sitting up, Hannibal reached out for her hand, "Relax." He found it in the darkness and sighed, "I think it's Face."

The door knob started to rattle. Francesca folded her legs against her chest as Hannibal broke his grasp and searched around the ground next to the bed for clothes. The door swung open revealing Face standing with Eliza. She looked angered, fire definitely burning in her eyes. "Don't make any sudden movements," she leered, "I have a gun."

Hannibal pulled his boxers up just in time to freeze beside the bed. Francesca pulled more covers up around her.

Face looked between the two of them, his mind was on fire. He tried to get past the awkwardness with his stern words, "Don't _move_."

"I won't," Francesca squeaked and leaned against the headboard of the bed.

Pulling out a gun from his coat, Face sucked in his lower lip, "Get up."

She pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself, getting up.

Eliza laughed, "I have to admit, you are a fantastic kisser."

"Thank you," Francesca smiled.

She approached Francesca holding the gun out, "You actually had me fooled for a little bit. Even with the nose. Yours is a bit too big, darling."

"At least you put it kindly," she swallowed. "Do you mind if I get dressed?"

"I do, actually," Eliza pressed the barrel of the gun to her neck. Hannibal worriedly looked over at Francesca who barely flinched. "Edward, keep a look out on the big one, please."

_The big one?_ Hannibal thought with a bit of disdain. Face approached him with a cautious look.

"You got lucky," Face smirked quietly.

Hannibal smiled slightly and then held up both of his arms in the act. "What can I say," he mumbled.

"So what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Francesca idly asked.

"Well, now that I know you're not Roselle and he's not Robert…I figured that you were after something that I pride myself upon," she explained with a leer. "And now I realize what's been going on. What you're after. So I decided that I better put a stop to it," Eliza licked her lips. "Not like anyone's going to miss you anyway."

Francesca pursed her lips, "Eliza, do you realize that if you get caught doing what you're doing…you'll get much worse of a punishment than we'll give you?"

"Trust us," Face chose that moment to turn his gun toward Eliza.

She turned, startled, "Edward…?"

"Wow, I didn't think this would actually work," Hannibal blurted out.

Francesca looked to Hannibal as her heart skipped a beat. "What?" she asked, disbelieving.

Anger settled in the room as he didn't reply. Eliza, still shocked took a few steps toward her 'brother', "Wait, Edward, you went against me?"

"I'm not Edward," Face rolled his eyes. "If that isn't painfully obvious to you yet."

An inaudible growl came from Eliza, "You must be Peck, then."

"Yes," he said proudly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind moving to the bed."

"Don't forget, I have a gun too," Eliza grinned.

Francesca threw caution to the wind and took the blanket around her and twisted it around Eliza's neck. "Drop it," she said through her clenched teeth.

Choking out a few words, Eliza let the gun fall from her hand. Face quickly went to pick it up and Eliza made a poor attempt to kick him in the face, but misdirected her foot and stubbed her toe.

Francesca quickly let her out of the sheet and pressed it back to her chest, "Alright, I've got to put on some clothes."

"And you," Face looked at Eliza. "Go against that wall, please," he gestured to the windowed wall. "Unless you want to make this really hard on yourself."


	26. Chapter 26: What Am I To Do?

**Guys. I'm so sorry this has taken so long. But with all my classes and theatre, I have been so busy. Now I'm back and I'm pretty sure I'll get the next installment out in at most two weeks. Promise. **

**So, please review and keep reading. **

**Love you all!**

**DG**

Francesca picked up her jumpsuit and awkwardly went past Eliza and Face to change, all the while glaring at Hannibal. He sighed, slipping on his shirt. Face shuffled over to Eliza who rubbed her neck nervously.

"You're bastards," Eliza spat at Face as he came closer.

"I don't think you're in a position to speak to us like that," he murmured.

Hannibal crossed his arms, "So, Ms. McDonald. I hope you won't mind answering a few questions."

She stayed quiet. Her demeanor was calm, but they could all tell that she was furious.

"I'll take that as a no, that you won't mind answering our questions," he lowered his voice. "So where is this illegal outfit you've set up?"

"Mongolia," Eliza said quietly, feeling the prodding of Face's gun.

"Oh, we wouldn't be good at our jobs if we didn't know that," Hannibal lowered his voice. "Where in Mongolia, Miss McDonald?"

Francesca walked out of the bathroom, pulling her hair from her collar, "Oh, don't patronize her. She's not a child."

Hannibal looked back at her with an almost regretful glare. She didn't meet his eye as she approached Eliza, "What the hell have you been up to? You're just a socialite who dabbles in the illicit counterfeit."

"Miss Barrett…" Eliza rolled her eyes. Francesca was a little shocked she knew her name. "I'm not a socialite, I am simply a counterfeiter. That is _all_ I do. I'm good at it."

"I suppose Edward is pretty good at it too," Face laughed quietly.

Eliza lifted her head slowly to reply, but instead kept to herself.

"Okay, Eliza," Francesca lowered her voice and leaned down toward her. "You're going to need to tell me everything if you want to get out of his with all of your fingers and your hair."

The interrogation continued. Francesca finally handed it over to the boys as she retreated into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and collapsed onto the floor. Her scar was acting up again, her head pounding and her heart racing. She felt like crying.

The door creaked open slowly. Hannibal looked inside slowly, "Francesca…"

"Leave me alone," Francesca droned, bringing her knees up to her chest.

"No, I won't."

"Right now, I'm really not in the mood to talk. Honestly. Even if it wasn't you, I wouldn't take to that person, so please, just let me be for a time," Francesca started to rub her temples. "It would be greatly appreciated."

Hannibal stayed silent for a moment, examining her deconstructed form, "Alright, fine." He then slipped back out of the room and to the boys.

Francesca let tears fall from her eyes in the moments after, but quickly pushed them off of her cheeks. The door creaked open again. "Hannibal, please, I'm really not in the mood to talk."

"Francesca? "the voice was that of a man's, quiet and confused.

Her head shot up. She knew that voice. "Dave?" Francesca looked over at the towering man who now had cornered her in the bathroom. His hazel eyes glinted through the thick frames of his glasses.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," he crouched down and reached out one of his tan hands toward her.

"What…are you doing here?" she gasped for air, her eyes widening with shock.

"Look, you've got to get out of here."

"What?"

"You've got to leave or I'm going to have to take you hostage, Francesca," he brushed one of his hands back through his black hair. "Please, don't make me do that."

Francesca shook her head, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Dave quietly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a gun, "Come on."

"John…" she tried to scream, but it only came out in a faint whisper. "How'd you get in here?"

"Just…snuck in. Everyone's so preoccupied with Eliza."

"Why are you doing this?" she choked out.

Suddenly, a raucous began in the other room. Francesca heard two new voices shouting in the other room. Her eyes widened, "You're working for them. Why are you working for them?"

Dave positioned his gun toward her with weary eyes and said calmly, "Get up off the ground."

Francesca obeyed, sliding up the wall, pressing her hands against the unwashed tile, "Dave, you're making a mistake."

"Be quiet," he said more sternly and louder. He reached out to her.

His grip was tight around her neck as he started pulling her out through the door. Francesca couldn't breathe. She knew he wasn't trying to choke her. At least she thought he wasn't trying.

Her phone slipped out of her back pocket onto the floor. Her eyes were watering like she had to sneeze. Francesca reached out, tried to kick him, but she couldn't feel her legs. Something was seriously wrong. She couldn't even move really. Her limp body just wailed in his arms for a moment before convulsing into a manner that almost resembled death.

In the room, Hannibal was trying to fend off one of the men, presumable the real Edward White, while Eliza pushed Murdock down onto bed. Face was trying to pry her hands off of Murdock who had become too stunned and angry to fend her off. B.A. was cornering the other man who, unfortunately, had more wit and less strength than B.A. did and could outsmart almost every move.

Suddenly, the fight was interrupted by a stiff call, "I've got her."

Hannibal lifted his head as the fight let up slowly. His attentive eyes only glimpsed the man who held Francesca around her rib cage, her unconscious body swaying in his arms. This image was quickly eclipsed by the punch he received.

_Flashback_

Francesca stepped out of the shower first, taking a towel off of the sink counter. Her breath was shallow and there was an unsure smile on her face. She hoped that he didn't really remember her little outburst only a little earlier. She looked back at the shower.

Hannibal had reached a hand out, leaning on the wall of the shower.

"You okay?" Francesca laughed a little.

Looking over at her, Hannibal pursed his lips tightly and grumbled, "Yeah." First, he was sore. Any amount of fucking could do that to a person. Second, he was still looking back on the 'I love you' and really scared him. He was frightened to listen to her talk again.

"Do you need some-"

"Hey, just settle down," he said, only half joking.

Francesca went to the door and leaned her head on the frame, "Okay." Instead of speaking, she looked over the man. Water dripped down his chest and his hair was still wet and matted. It hurt to look at him a little.

"Why don't you go into the other room? Relax or…something," he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his hand.

Francesca blushed and ambled out of the room.

Hannibal sighed. What had he gotten himself into?

It had started with the raucous one night stand. Just sex. And then it started to become an affair, something they both reverted to in the singularity and loneliness. Now, it was love. She was in love with him.

He didn't know if he loved her, though. And even if he did, he wouldn't admit it. He'd never told anyone besides his own mother that he loved them. Hannibal stepped carefully out of the shower and reached out for another towel. From the other room, he could hear Francesca humming a simple song and walking around the room quickly.

Going into the next room, Hannibal found Francesca in a long sleeved, blue night shirt. She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, I know," he blushed. "I'm wet and half naked and this towel is not nearly as big as I would like it to be."

She held out his boxers to him with a smirk, "Well, anyway…"

"Did you know that George Washington couldn't have children?" he interrupted, slipping on his boxers. He was desperate for conversation to avoid talking about the love bit.

"No, I didn't," Francesca frowned in a confused manner. "Why are you bringing that up?"

"I just thought it was an interesting fact," he mumbled.

"Right…" she sat down at the end of the bed. "Have you…ever been in l-"

Hannibal interrupted again, "And he was very upset about it."

"John," Francesca said quietly. "Stop avoiding the situation."

His face morphed into a crestfallen grimace.

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Well…" Hannibal sat down beside her. She wasn't asking about his love for her. It was a different love. Or so he assumed. "Um…once."

"Yeah?" there was a hopeful glint in her eye.

"Yeah."

Francesca looked at him, waiting for more information. "Oh," she blinked. "That's it. Once."

"Yeah. Once."

"You're…not gonna tell me about it?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

Francesca turned her head away, "Right. Okay."

There was a long, deep silence. Hannibal took in a deep breath. _I should say something. I should ask her a question. Or something._

Francesca hated herself at that moment. He just wouldn't talk to her or anything. So what was the point of all the worry? It would continue on as it always had. Sex and alcohol. A few laughs…etcetera. She sucked in another breath. The air was thin, it seemed. Francesca wanted to speak, but her lips would not formulate words.

"It's a long story," Hannibal finally murmured

She didn't reply.

"It was sixteen years ago. I was…young," he recollected with an intense gaze at the opposite wall. "I had gone to the hospital to visit a friend and…there was this nurse. And we hit it off. It was just like a normal romance. And then I had to leave and she didn't want to wait around. So it was over."

Francesca smiled, "So it was…a relationship."

"Yeah."

"I mean…she must've been older than you."

Hannibal looked into his lap and ran his hand across his forehead.

"First, you get an older woman, now you're being chased by a younger woman. Are you satisfied yet?" Francesca looked away, almost half talking to herself.

"Francesca, you're a beautiful woman who I simply adore," Hannibal whispered. "But I cannot give you what you want."

_End Flashback_

Francesca lifted her eyelids slowly, as best she could. Her vision was blurry, but it looked to her like she was staring at some computer screens. She was restrained to an office chair with loose duct tape against her lips. "Hello?" she tried to shout, but all that came out was a grumble. Her throat was sore and she could see her jumpsuit ripped down her legs, revealing dark bruises on her skin.

A figure appeared in her vision. "Hey."

She recognized the voice as Dave's.

"Screw you," she muttered.

"Look, this was for your own good, I swear," he came closer to her. Dave knelt in front of her and pulled the tape off of her face.

Francesca turned her head away quickly, "I don't see how this can be for my own good."

"You were not safe," Dave slid his hands up her legs. It was too close for her liking.

"How is it better that I'm here being held captive by people who should be ready to kill me?" she tried to shake off the restraints and then glared down at him.

"I'm going to take care of you, I promise. You won't ever have to be caught up in all of that again."

"You're an idiot," she spat. "There's a reason I'm with them."

Dave was quiet for a moment. He put his hands on either side of her face and smiled, "I've missed you."

"Please, don't touch me."

"It's been a long time."

"Stop…touching me."

"I'm going to keep you safe, I promise."

Francesca sucked in her lower lip, "How did you find me and get me out of there?"

"Well, we've been tracking you all for awhile. And it was just a simple, temporary paralyzing agent," he said calmly.

"Why do you work for them? You had morals, Dave," she said quietly. "At least when I knew you."

Dave blushed, "I just got caught up in a lot of stuff. And I ended up here. Just a hacker." He shook his head, "Let's stop talking about that. Let me help you."

"You can't."

"Why are you being so adamant about this?"

"I didn't want to leave. You took me away from people who loved me."

Dave frowned, "It was my job."

Francesca hung her head, "They all mean so much to me. They care about me. And…I love him."

"You love _who_?" Dave asked incredulously.

"John. John…" Francesca cried. "I moved on, Dave. Please tell me you did too."

He silently reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Putting it down on the security desk, Dave sighed, "Now, I never did get over you. And unfortunately, that makes me want to sacrifice everything for your happiness." Then, his eyes met hers in an intense gaze, "Ten minutes."

Dave walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Now, Francesca knew it wasn't anything to be frightened of. It wasn't a weapon. She could tell. She struggled a little more, finally loosening some of the tape and ropes and whatever else was holding her back.

Finally, she got both of her arms completely free. She reached out for the phone and held it in her palm for a minute, tracing her fingers across multitude of buttons she could press. She remembered how her phone had slipped out of her pocket as Dave dragged her out of the hotel room. Francesca started to dial her own number and then lifted the phone to her ear. It rang and rang for a few seconds. She had almost lost hope, but finally, she heard on the other end, Hannibal's voice, "H-hello?"

"It's me," Francesca answered, wiping a few tears off her cheek.

"Francesca!" he sighed in absolute relief. "Francesca, where are you? Are you alright?"

She smiled sadly, "I'm fine. I'm okay."

"Do you know _where _you are?"

"Just a big warehouse. Tied to a chair in the security room. The usual…" she trailed off. "Where are you guys?"

Ignoring her question, Hannibal continued, "You don't sound oky.

"John, I don't have much time. Don't waste it by challenging me," she said meekly.

He swallowed. He didn't know what she meant. Death? Was it a final goodbye? Was it a hidden message in her words? "I'm going to find you, Francesca. Please, just hold on."

Francesca felt more tears welling in her eyes. She pursed her lips, "Finish the job. Don't worry about me. I can get out of this."

"But-"

She cut him off immediately, "Just trust me, John. They need to be dealt with. You can do that without me."

"I cannot leave you behind _again_," he murmured in frustration. "Not ever again, Francesca." Her name slid off his tongue as he savored saying it. He kept saying it. It kept her close.

She hung her head, "I'm giving you permission…to leave me behind."

"No one gets left behind-"

"I am not part of your team."

Hannibal went silent. Tears burned his eyes. Desperately, he turned away from the boys to shield his vulnerability.

"Treat me as a free agent," she said.

"I can't," he said in an intimate whisper, audible only to Francesca.

Francesca started to cry and that gradually turned into sobs. It was almost unbearable for Hannibal to hear, but he waited patiently. Her breath became regular again and she started to speak, "You have to."

At last, he realized she would not let up.

"I love you, John."

Then, she hung up.

"Francesca…" he called out like a summons for her voice. "Francesca…"

She was gone.

Face flanked Hannibal, "What'd she say?"

"Finish the job," he quoted her.

"Then…" he looked back at B.A. and Murdock who were perched on the bed with bruises spreading across their arms and faces. "That's what we'll do."


	27. Chapter 27: Here Without You

**So much for two weeks later...Well here is the long awaited chapter. Sort of a filler, promise more drama in the next one. Only a few chapters left. At least that's what I've planned. We'll see**

_Two Weeks Later_

Francesca stared at the burning building with an orange shock blanket wrapped around her. Her eyes were filled with tears.

She didn't even have time to realize that this was the first time she had breathed fresh air in two weeks. In her left hand, Francesca clutched Dave's slim phone. Her grasp on it was so tight that her knuckles were white. Charisa Sosa came up beside her and rested one hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright?"

"No," Francesca swallowed. "A good man died tonight. He didn't deserve what you did to him."

"He was working for people against the United States Government," Charisa said calmly. "Even if his morals were right, he was in the wrong place. It was his fault."

Dave was dead. So were Edward McDonald and everyone else who had been in the warehouse besides herself. That she had even lived was alive was a miracle.

It had been her fifteenth day of captivity. She had been sleeping. All Francesca could do was sleep and dream and try to get out of that place. At least once a day, though, Dave would come into the room and talk to her. Keep her company. They wouldn't talk about what had happened between them. They would talk about things they loved. Dave's dog Ziggy and Francesca's brother. They'd listen to each other, help each other out. That day, he hadn't come yet. So, imagination was the key out of that hell hole.

Every now and then, she'd check to see if the door was unlocked. _Maybe Dave forgot or maybe he was giving her a chance to escape_. However, that was a lost cause. Sometime during the day, smoke started to pour in through the vents and Francesca knew that if she didn't get out of there within five minutes, she would be a lost cause. Dead.

And those five minutes ticked by as she tried to let herself out of the room.

Dave had suddenly burst in and helped her out, starting to murmur instructions in her ear. "Get out. Go. Run. You won't be safe until you're out of this building and heading toward the city."

Francesca had shaken her head in incomprehension.

"Just…" he had handed her his cell phone. "Call them again. Tell them this: The password is WALC672. You remember that? W-A-L-C-672."

"Dave. What's going on?" she got enough energy to speak.

"There's not time to explain. Please, just… go."

And he had kissed her. Full on the lips. She didn't push him away. She was kind of frightened.

"Thank you," he flashed his smile and then ran his hands through her hair. "Run."

She shook her head, "Can't you come?"

"There's a lot that I have to take care of," Dave frowned. "Things that I have to get rid of. I'm sorry for everything I did to you. _Everything_."

And he cast her off. Francesca ran, picking up speed, not paying attention to her aching legs.

Her recollections were cut off.

"Come on," Charisa slipped her arm around Francesca. "We're going to get out of here."

Francesca reluctantly went with her, lowering her head. Not only had she been taken away from the four boys that had brought a new, psychotic happiness to her life, but she had also lost someone that she cared about. Someone she had loved, lost, and then gained back in a friendship.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked Charisa quietly.

"Don't worry," Charisa gave her a close lipped smile. "It's gonna be fine."

"I don't want you to tell me it's going to be fine," Francesca closed her eyes and stopped walking with her. "Where am I going? Are you arresting me or…"

Charisa sighed, "Look, Francesca, this was all considered a hostage situation. I have yet to tell anyone that you actually were in cahoots with the Alpha Team."

"Then I'll tell them," she pursed her lips. "They're not going down further for me."

"Francesca, you can't do that," she said urgently. "You jeopardize your own career, my career…your family."

Upon hearing family, Francesca froze.

"I don't mean to make this any harder than it is."

"I…" Francesca lost her voice. Tell the truth and destroy her family. Stay silent and destroy Hannibal.

Charisa turned toward Francesca and put her hands on her shoulders, "Stop worrying. You need to rest."

They walked the rest of the way toward a black car and Charisa let Francesca get in. Francesca finally asked, "Do they know what happened in the building? Why did it go up?"

Charisa didn't reply, instead pulling out her cell phone. She started to dial a number that Francesca couldn't follow with her eyes readily.

Her head started throbbing, so much so that her gut tightened and she felt nauseous. Francesca closed her eyes and drew her legs up to her chest. It wasn't anything new. The dizziness. But now, she wanted it all to go away. It was doubly painful, that headache feeling that made her stomach turn.

However, she would just bear it for now.

_Flashback_

Francesca shook her head, "You're everything I want."

"That's not the same," Hannibal quickly said.

"You're just afraid," she bit her lip.

"I'm not," he lied through clenched teeth. "I'm not afraid. It just wouldn't be fair."

She sighed, "John, I love you. I am content with you."

"Francesca, you don't know what love is. You are a child."

"You sound like a cliché father," she spat. "Grow down."

"I'm looking out for your best interests," Hannibal said.

Francesca shook her head, "John, you-"

"I know what I'm saying!" he said loudly.

"You don't! You don't at _all_! You know what you wish you could say," she stood up. "Please, John."

"I can't-"

Francesca turned away from him and ran her hands through her hair. She was silent. There was no time to cry anymore, no time to consume her thoughts with the idea of his love. Instead, she went over to the small refrigerator at the other side of the room and took out the overpriced, miniature bottle of whiskey. Her eyes examined the bottle with sharp intensity. Francesca let out a drawn out breath and then unscrewed the cap.

Hannibal was confusedly watching with his gaze intruding on her peripheral vision. As she pressed the bottle to her lips he started to speak again. "Francesca, stop."

Suddenly, she did a spit-take directed toward him without any inhibitions. She quickly wiped off her mouth and said, "That is the worst tasting stuff pretty much ever."

"You're ignoring the subject."

"What…subject?" Francesca eyed the lips of the bottle again and licked her lips. "I guess that wasn't _horrible_."

Hannibal rolled his eyes, "You need to grow up."

"After you grow down. I guess we could meet in the middle," Francesca snapped and drank from the bottle again.

"Francesca, listen. You cannot make me change my mind. That's not how this all works," Hannibal scoffed.

Francesca smiled, "I know. I know that's not how to works." She dropped the bottle on the floor and dropped her head back, laughing. She was hysterical. Out of options and angry. "Forget about it. We're forgetting all about everything. Okay?"

"It's not okay," Hannibal said quietly as she came toward him.

"You're a bastard," she replied and forced her lips on his. She knew he'd melt. She knew he wouldn't _dare _pull away, afraid of hurting her feelings.

He knew she was using him. Hannibal let out a small gasp of surprise and also anger, but gradually let the kiss overcome him. There was no way around it. His eyes closed as she used her shrill talent to charm him.

Their embrace grew deeper, hotter, and more passionate. Hannibal ended up pinning her against the sheets and running his lips against her cool neck. It was hard to resist a woman. Even Hannibal could have a tough time not succumbing to the sensual touch of women, much less one that he truly _did _love.

_End Flashback_

They were flying over the ocean now, Murdock at the controls with an abnormally serene expression. Hannibal was sitting next to him. His hands were pressed between his thighs.

"Bossman, you wanna talk?" Murdock asked with a small sigh.

"Not particularly," Hannibal said quietly, staring forward.

Murdock rolled his eyes, "Okay, I'm gonna close my eyes and drive this plane unless you start talking."

"No!" Hannibal didn't even let him try. "Fine…Fine."

"So what's bugging you?" Murdock smiled meekly.

He shrugged, "Well, whataya think? I'm still worried about her."

Even though it had been a few weeks already, Hannibal was thinking about her always. They had first fled Rio and gotten a boat to Greece where they hatched their plan. Now, they were flying to Mongolia. And then they would begin their plan. However, they were all a little unsure. With Hannibal's head in the clouds, which was rare, the plan was one they were less confident about.

Murdock smiled, "She can take care of herself."

"I don't doubt it, but…I wish I could've just said a proper goodbye," he crossed his arms.

"I know," the pilot replied. "We all wish we could change things we've said or done."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Murdock continued to drive the plane while Hannibal stared blankly, focused on remembering every detail of Francesca's naked body pressed up against his in a fury of passion. In the back, Face and B.A. snored, collapsed on the ground with their hands splayed across the floor.

"I said I'd marry her," Hannibal said simply. "Someday."

"M-marry?" Murdock asked. He was completely shocked.

"I know," Hannibal smirked. "And the truth is I am going to marry her. The next time I see her I am going to propose to her."

His friend smiled with great joy, "You're gonna do it. You're actually gonna marry her. I can't believe it."

"I know."

"Out of the four of us, I never thought you'd be the first-"

Hannibal started to laugh, "Neither did I."

"Well, you don't think you're rushing into that or anything…"

"No. Not really. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. She's…incredible," Hannibal's smile disappeared. "I can only hope she feels the same. Or that I even see here again."

Murdock quieted at this. "You'll see her again."

"We'll see."


	28. Chapter 28: A Little Stranger

**I hope this chapter can make up for my lack of them lately, but I really wanted to make it perfect. Hope you love it as much as I do! I was so excited to write it. Please keep reviewing and favoriting and alerting. Sometimes they just come out of the blue and I love it! **

**DG**

Francesca stepped up to the front door of a nice townhouse with a perfectly trimmed garden. She'd been there several times before. She had spent weeks there, holidays, birthdays, everything. Portland was nice this time of year, too. But today, she wished to be anywhere but there. Unfortunately, there was no way for her to back out of it. The car that had taken her there was still sitting down the street. It was surveillance in the most basic of terms. The government wasn't just going to let her off easily after the strange and compromising position Francesca had put them in. She didn't confess to anything and didn't incriminate anyone in the slightest. All they could do in return was let her off with a guardian for a few months.

When Francesca had first found this out, she was shocked and a bit panic stricken. First off, she didn't need a guardian. She was an adult, over thirty. Second, they put her in the place she least wanted to be.

Francesca walked up the cobblestone pathway and up the six stairs to the front door. Her bags were growing heavier in her arms, but ringing the doorbell was really no relief. After a few minutes, Francesca finally heard footsteps coming up to the door and a muffled shout from behind it. It opened suddenly to reveal the woman with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and light skin. She smiled meekly and said in a tinkling voice, "Francesca!" She threw her arms open and embraced Francesca in a tight hug.

"Mel!" Francesca said with a little less gusto. She hadn't seen her sister-in-law in God knows how long, but now it was just like picking up where they left off.

"Aunt Checka!" Jessica rushed into the doorway and popped up next to her mom.

"Jess!" the burden of coming alleviated as Jessica hugged Francesca's hips.

"Hey, let her in, Jessica," Mel pulled back on her daughter and took one of Francesca's bags.

Francesca followed the two inside, smiling delicately at the warm interior and the light, pastel green curtains and peach throw pillows. It was a family home. And Francesca felt enlightened by it. "Where's Andrew?" she asked Jessica with a grin.

"He's upstairs," Jessica shrugged off lightly.

"Well, go get him, Jess," Mel tapped her daughter on the shoulder. Jessica gave her a quick look that made Francesca laugh before rushing off to the staircase.

Francesca turned to Mel when she knew that Jessica was out of earshot, "How's Tommy?"

"We're not talking about him right now. Why the hell did you go off trying to get yourself killed? Again?" Mel frowned.

"I have a right to know," Francesca murmured.

"What were you doing? They just said they suspected foul play with those men that worked with Tommy?"

"You know they're innocent."

"What if they're not? They could be dangerous," Mel spat venom in Francesca's face.

Pursing her lips, Francesca replied calmly, "Mel, I know those men. I trust them."

"No woman in their right mind would trust the four of them," she replied, trying a more kind approach.

"Look, Mel, you have to trust me-"

"I can't trust someone who is doing the wrong thing for my husband," Mel said in a breathy voice, tears brimming in her eyes.

Struck with an overwhelming sense of anger and protectiveness, Francesca lowered her voice, "I'm going to say this once, Mel. Tommy wanted me to be his medical proxy. That means I do what's right for him. He's a fighter and he _will _get through this. You don't have to trust me. I don't actually care if you trust me."

"You've been with those guys for weeks. I just don't know-"

"Hannibal was at your wedding, Mel," Francesca said with her teeth tight. "I lo…" Instead of being cut off by Mel, Francesca felt the words leave her mouth as a wave of nausea overcame her. She turned her face away and murmured some choice words beneath her breath before rushing into the bathroom located near the stairway.

She forced her head over the toilet and vomited twice, eradicating anything from her system. Francesca hung onto the sides of the bowl and tried to catch her breath. She couldn't keep doing this to herself. Lying to herself all the time just wouldn't work.

Mel rushed into the bathroom, "Francesca, what's going on?"

Francesca tried to speak but all that came out was a small croak. They both heard Jessica and Andrew running down the stairs. Their eyes met for a moment before Mel sighed, "We'll talk about this later, okay?"

Quickly, Francesca wiped her mouth off with her sleeve and flushed the toilet. Andrew squeezed past his mother and hugged Francesca. She put her arms around him, but kept her eyes on Mel who was glaring at her with intensity.

How she was going to tell her everything that had happened, she didn't know. This time, she didn't feel like weaseling her way out of anything.

So they waited until the late evening when the kids went to sleep. Francesca waited downstairs at the kitchen island, her arms folded over her chest. Finally, Mel came back down and asked in a reserved voice, "Tell me what's happening."

"You're not going to like it," Francesca said quietly, running her hand over her face.

Mel smiled slightly, "Since when have you cared what I thought?"

"Despite what you may think, Mel, I definitely don't hate you," Francesca said simply. "I care about what you think and what you say. So I'm worried to be judged."

Mel went silent and then reached across the island to grab Francesca's hand, "Look…we haven't always agreed. Frankly, I hate your job and I hate Tommy's job and I hate a lot of your opinions. But we're family. Just because I don't agree with you, doesn't mean I don't love you."

Francesca lifted her head to look more closely into Mel's hazel eyes. They were sympathetic and strong. "You can tell me anything, Francesca. We're practically sisters. And I think we've both forgotten that," she continued. "So if you're going to tell me that you're in love with one of those _criminals _or…" Mel started to laugh. "Wouldn't that be hilarious?"

Francesca gave her a look, one of embarrassment and dismay.

Catching on quickly, Mel gaped, "No, Francesca, no!"

"Yeah…" she said quietly in reply.

She shook her head, "No. "

"Yes."

Francesca thought Mel was about to go into a parental lecture, but instead she smiled boldly and said, "Well, I never thought it would happen."

"Huh?" she asked, frowning.

"A man. For you," Mel laughed. "That seemed like a joke. Tommy never thought it would happen since you're so-"

"Wait, just a second," Francesca tried to interrupt.

"So, tell me about him. Everything," Mel leaned forward, squealing like a little girl.

Francesca quietly replied, "Mel, it's a lot more than just being in love with him."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked a little more seriously.

Biting her lip, Francesca said, "I think—I mean…I'm pretty sure that…" She ran her hands over her face and sighed, taking a moment to collect her thought. "I think I'm pregnant."

Mel's eyes widened, "What?"

Tears started to well up in Francesca's eyes and she lowered her head.

"Oh my god," she continued. "Have you taken a test yet or anything?"

"Yeah…positive."

Mel smiled, "Francesca, this is-"

"I'm so scared," she started to cry. "I'm not ready to have a baby."

"Yes, you are," she replied. "You totally are. You're awesome with Jess and Andrew."

"I know, but…" Francesca swallowed. "Now that it's mine I think I'm really going to screw everything up." She ran her hand across her stomach and smiled lightly. She could feel the slight of her stomach and it made her life a little more worth while.

_Flashback_

Hannibal closed the hotel room door behind him and breathed out. He was frozen in his shoes. He couldn't go back in. She wouldn't want him. And he couldn't leave because he knew how much pain he had caused her.

He loved her, but unbearably so. He could not admit it to himself or to anyone.

Hannibal went forward, walking swiftly through the hotel. As he walked, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Hello?" Face asked meekly.

"Face…it's me," Hannibal said, walking down the main staircase.

"It's six in the morning," Face sighed. "Why are you calling me?"

He stopped for a moment to work out his plan, "Put Murdock on the phone."

"Gladly," he mumbled. There was a pause as he handed the phone over to Murdock.

Hannibal impatiently looked around as he waited for the captain's voice on the other end. He had thought Francesca would run after him, but there was no evidence of that, no one screaming his name or feet pounding on the ground. And that was almost disappointing. The thrill and the drama didn't exist now.

"Hey, bossman," Murdock chortled. "Watcha need?"

"I need you to pick me up from The Copacabana. Where are you?"

"On my way," he could hear Murdock rushing in the background and turning on the van. "What's going on?"

Hannibal sighed and went toward the front of the building, "Please, just come."

"Boss… You're scaring me. What's happening?"

"Look…I-I-"

"Who are you with?"

Running a hand through his hair, Hannibal quietly replied, "I need you to come here because-"

"Tell me."

He put two fingers on his lips and then quietly replied, "I ended it."

"What…did you end?"

"With Francesca Barrett," her name hurt in his mouth. "It's over. I couldn't do it anymore…I…" He couldn't say anything more, either. His mouth was frozen in fear and worry, strange feelings to overcome such a man, so he thought.

Murdock quickly replied, "Hannibal, I'll be there in ten minutes, tops."

They both hung up. Hannibal felt like the wind had just been knocked out of him. He continued out the hotel and waited, unbeknownst to him that two men were on the prowl looking for him and that the woman he just left was now on the floor, bleeding and unconscious.

_End Flashback_

Face tasted blood on his lower lip. He rubbed his hand over it just to make sure. Yep, blood. That was okay, though. Not the worst thing he'd ever felt. He looked over at the team who all were catching their breath and rubbing their faces.

"That was a bust," B.A. growled, shrugging off his leather jacket.

"Well, how was I supposed to know that there was a code, huh?" Face turned back and looked in the mirror, tending to his cut.

Murdock rolled his eyes, "This is why you don't make the plans, Face."

"Not anymore," he replied. "Look, it's not a big deal. We're all fine. We figure it out, we try again."

While they all spoke about the apparent failing, Hannibal thought to himself, wearing a worried frown which the boys rarely saw. Two big problems plagued. The first, the problem afoot, was the missing code they needed to break into the counterfeit ring. The second was that this prevented him from returning home for at least a little bit. He just wanted to see Francesca. At this point, it wasn't about the mission, it was about her. Normally, Hannibal would look down upon forlorn lovers in the crossfire of a romance. But Hannibal had never been in that situation. He'd seen Face become lovesick thousands of times and thought nothing of it.

Love wasn't in 'the plan.' Then again, neither was becoming fugitives, being betrayed by Morrison, or forming the A-Team.

"What do you think, Hannibal?" Face looked back at him, still plucking at the cut.

Hannibal raised his head and narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"What do you think we should do?" he asked.

Biting his lip, Hannibal replied, "About what?"

Murdock looked to B.A. with a nervous gaze. B.A. shook his head, "You weren't listening?"

Hannibal stood up and wiped some sweat off of his face with his t-shirt and looked to each of the boys, "No, I wasn't."

"What's going on with you, boss?" Face addressed him directly without a pittance of embarrassment. "You're not in the game."

"Right," Hannibal turned away and paced back to his original position. He let out a deep breath.

They had pitched a makeshift tent in the grassy steppes of Mongolia which now was falling in at one side despite their efforts to prop up. Hannibal sat back down on his stool, not saying anything else.

"What's this…" Face pointed to Hannibal but talked to the other two.

"You're completely oblivious to everyone, but yourself," B.A. stood, "Aren't you?" Then, he went over to Hannibal and said, "You're thinking about her."

He nodded, "How could I not?"

Suddenly, there was an obnoxious dinging, a cell phone ringing. Hannibal immediately noticed that it was Francesca's phone that had been left behind. He dug it out of his pocket and looked at it for a second before answering. "Hello?"

"They're tracing this call. I only have a few seconds," Francesca said quietly.

"Francesca. Francesca, where are you?" he urgently asked, sitting up straighter.

"There's a code. A code for th-the counterfeit operation. I'm gonna give it to you, okay?" her voice started to waver.

Before he could answer, Francesca listed off the letters and numbers, "W-A-L-C-6-7-2. Remember that. You'll need it."

"Where are you?"

"WALC672."

"Francesca, answer me! I need to know that you're safe," he clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white.

She quickly replied, "I'm fine. I'm safe. I love you. WALC672. Remember. Come home safe. I need you here, now."

"Francesca!" he tried to talk to her one last time, but the line went dead. Hannibal pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a minute.

What did she mean by 'I need you here, _now_'? He closed the phone and looked to Face. "WALC672," a smile crossed his lips. "We got it. We're going home."


	29. Chapter 29: Voices Carry

**I wanted to give you guys one more chapter before the new year (2012 already?). So here it is, extra long. I am in a writing mood lately, so I hope I can crank out a few more. Please review and love it as much as I do! A little fluff and friendship. Enjoy and have a happy, wonderful, new year!  
DG **

The four men stood in a line as Face bent over the lettered and numbered pad. _W-A-L-C-6-7-2_. He pressed in the numbers forcefully, thinking that would help open the door. Even without his strong fingers, the door flew open. They all felt relief. This time, they were sure they would die if they got caught. Everything was two times harder when it came to second chances. Both Face and Hannibal had learned that lesson through women.

Face stepped through the door and quietly positioned himself to the side of it, holding his gun out in case of a sudden ambush, "Come on."

Hannibal and B.A. followed stealthily with weapons at the ready. They knew they were being watched. Luckily, that was all in the plan. Hannibal and B.A. quickly dispersed across the building, an industrial, grey building, darkened. They knew security couldn't be too far behind or before them. While Hannibal and B.A. distracted, Face was going to steal the plates. He had found out from an "extremely reliable source" that the plates remained within a locked office on once side of the operation.

The dark abyss was only aided by their practiced sight and adjusting vision. Face certainly couldn't stake out the territory in the dark, but he tried his best as he stayed out of the vision of cameras by hugging the wall. While dark was the enemy it was also their savior, enveloping them in the perfect disguise. Hannibal and B.A. went forward reaching out for the something to hold on to.

"You're looking for something, aren't you?" a voice called out, a man's voice.

The three men froze and waited for the voice again.

"We've been waiting for you, gentlemen," it said again.

Face realized it must've been Edward McDonald. He hadn't confronted them in Rio. He didn't actually show up, so now he was going to corner them and trap them like mice. "Shit…" Face murmured.

He could feel Hannibal glare at him. Silence was key. Stillness aided that. Face, however, never really agreed to that. He often strayed away from Hannibal's plan. Turning back to the wall, Face started to continue on, but traced his fingers across the wall to find a switch. Reveal where Edward was and show him where the locked office was.

Edward was a handsome man, blonde, tall, and perfectly manicured from head to toe. His face was tailored and pulled to be perfect. It was obvious he tried to be lovely.

There was a cry in the dark. B.A. was set upon. Face and Hannibal both jumped out of their skin. While they knew B.A. could handle himself, this was of dire consequence. Any mission had the occasional attacks, blips in the plan. But they all knew how much this mission meant to Hannibal. It meant a way out, at least for a little bit.

So Face searched a little more and finally came upon the switch. He pulled down and rows of fluorescent lights popped on across the underground warehouse. Now, he could see an office lingering over the working presses slightly diagonal to Face. He made a fun for it, hearing the groans of his companions as they fended for their lives. When only ten feet from the room, he fell over his own feet in anticipation. As he tried to rise again, he was stifled by someone stepping on his back. He cried out in pain and thrashed about.

"Oh, Lieutenant Peck," Edward said, unperturbed as he stood. "Good to see you."

"Get off me!" Face shouted through clenched teeth.

"You know, I never did understand that sort of plea. I'm working against you. Of course, I'm not just going to step off. Maybe if you added please…" he replied, smiling.

Face would've used his gun if it hadn't landed a few inches out of reach. He started to curse under his breath. He pulled at Edward's shoes and got him to tumble over. They threw punches and kicks, tasted blood, felt sweat dripping down their faces. This went on until they heard, "Hey Face, what the hell are you doing?"

They both looked up to see B.A. hanging out of the office with the silver briefcase in his hand. "How did you do that?" Face asked, pushing Edward McDonald one last time before Edward relented, trying to go for B.A.

"Oh, I just went around the other way. No big deal. Ready to go? Murdock's waiting."

Face stood there dumbstruck at how easily this was pulled off in comparison to all the planning they had undergone. Hannibal rushed past and quickly pushed Edward over in a quick maneuver. "Face, don't just stand there. Get going."

They ran through the office and found an exit on the other side. The Mongolian steppes blew in the tracks of Murdock's helicopter. The three felt air on their faces as they went to reach the helicopter ladder set down for them. As they began to climb, they were attacked by Edward again. He started to climb after them with determined speed, blood dripping down his lips, "I'm not letting you get away with this."

"Bite me," Face spat and kicked Edward in the face.

Edward swung around the ladder and approached from the other side, "You're cowards, running away from a fight." He dug his polished nails into knuckles which seemed to be a last ditch effort, but in fact was extremely powerful. Blood rushed from Face's pierced skin. He clenched his teeth, attempting to escape, but had no luck. He laced his feet around the outside of the ladder and dropped his hands so he could slide down and grasp lower rungs.

With Face out of the way, Edward pulled a shotgun out of his jacket pocket and aimed for B.A. with a tenacious grin.

Scrambling up the ladder further, B.A. chucked the case up into the helicopter and launched himself up the few final rungs. He did not, however, avoid the bullet that Edward shot into bicep. He howled as he landed and clutched the wound with his hand.

"Get a paper cut, Bosco?" Murdock shouted from the front of the cabin.

B.A. didn't even reply, crawling toward the case and rubbing the blood on his pants.

Hannibal and Face were left on the ladder. Caught in between was a madman with a gun.

"If either of you move, I'll shoot you."

Hannibal and Face exchanged a glance and froze. There were a few options. Move, see who the bullet hits and how good Edward's aim was. Drop to the ground: certain death. Or try to attack with their weapons.

None of these did happen though.

B.A., exhausted and bleeding leaned over the helicopter edge, feeling the urge to vomit from the height, but instead brought his gun in front of him and aimed at Edward's head.

His aim was off, hitting Edward in the shoulder, but nonetheless, his attack plan worked. The shock loosened Edward's grip and sent him plummeting to the ground.

Face, Hannibal, and B.A. looked down to the earth, hearing Edward's desperate cry at the bottom.

One thing was for sure. Even with the plates, they knew this wasn't over.

Eliza would be after them again.

_Flashback_

Francesca blinked, staring up at the white ceiling. There was an annoying, constant beeping. She wiggled her fingers. Her joints cracked. Then suddenly, a horrid amount of pain passed through her gut.

She couldn't remember much.

He left. That was most important.

Francesca tried to sit up, but couldn't. The pain was overwhelming. She groaned. Where was she?

Reaching across her chest, she felt her other arm. An IV. It started to return to her memory. The man and the gun. One single bullet and now she was here.

Francesca was riddled with holes. "Hello?"

There were footsteps and a face, one she couldn't make out or place. "You're going to be fine." It was a woman. "You're in the hospital."

"I…"

"You were shot, but you're in good hands now."

"You should get some more rest."

"I'd rather-"

"Relax. You're fine."

_No, I'm not. He's gone. _

She could here her heart rate quicken a bit as anxiety plagued her already weak mind. He left. It was too much to bear, an overwhelming feeling of regret, sadness, and disappointment felt like bricks on her chest as she struggled to breathe.

It hurt to concentrate and remember how to exhale and inhale.

_End Flashback_

"Wow, nice place," Face walked into the foyer of the townhouse, removing his jacket.

"Yeah," Murdock rushed in. "Where do you want us, boss?"

Hannibal entered the house and examined it carefully. To the right there was the kitchen, modern and sleek, but also thoroughly used by the looks of the Tupperwares of cookies and a few plates and mugs sitting by the sink, ready to be washed. To the left there was a tall staircase that bent into the next floor.

Everyone was out of the house. That had been the plan. He walked forward through the front hallway and found a spacious living room. "Guys, come in here. We'll wait." Hannibal had done some research, gotten the information. Francesca had been forced to stay with Mel and the kids for a year. He was so glad and thankful that it had come down to only that, a simple guardian and not prison.

The three followed and all made themselves unusually comfortable in the foreign house. Hannibal remained standing, waiting. While he was filled with excitement and happiness, he was nervous of what could come, what they could cause. He approached the French doors at the end of the room and looked out at the patio which was wonderfully decorated and looked like it had never been used.

B.A. was holding onto his wound that still hadn't completely calmed yet. The blood had clotted, but he was sure that once Francesca came along, he'd be in good hands. It was nice to be in a home, anybody's home, at this point. He relaxed on the couch with his feet on the glass coffee table and looked down the hallway, hearing Face in the kitchen. "Anything good in there, Facey?"

Face had frozen over the counter after rummaging through the fridge. He stared at a bottle in front of him, a pill bottle with a pink and yellow label. He picked it up with a certain amount of skepticism and bit his lower lip.

He scrutinized the label. _Prenatal pills_. Face wasn't domestically inclined, but he knew that these pills were for a pregnant woman (and this was confirmed by the silhouetted image on the label). Truly, he tried to deny what the back of his mind was thinking.

Maybe Tommy woke up and he and Mel were having another baby.

That wasn't true. Because there were no men's shoes near the doorway and no reason for the man of the house to be out. So if this assumption was false, the back of Face's mind was right.

Francesca was pregnant.

And he knew her well enough at this point to know that she didn't sleep around after she escaped. He trusted her to know that much. Hannibal's heart was a fragile thing. Often his mind overpowered that. Now, it was the ultimate test of Francesca's staying power. "Oh my god…" Face droned still staring at the bottle.

_Unbelievable. _Of all of them, Face never dreamed that Hannibal was going to fall in love, truest love, first, let alone become a father.

Face was convinced that this might be the hardest mission for Hannibal. He put the bottle down quickly and replied, "Nothing good."

Walking back into the living room, Face collapsed onto once of the recliners. His eyes gravitated toward Hannibal who stood with an almost imperceptible nervousness in his limbs. Face choked on his breath. He knew Hannibal's future. He felt psychic.

Murdock nudged him out of the musing, "Face, you all right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You've gone white."

It was true. Face had paled completely from his normally rosy, warm complexion. He ran his hand across his face. His hands were cold too. Like death had come upon him, he was struck with fear and knowledge. Knowledge that contained quite a bit of power.

They heard a door open. The four men froze and tried to peer down the hallway as conspicuously as possible.

"Go into the living room and start your homework," they heard Francesca breathe out with a tone of fatigue in her voice. "I'll bring you guys a few cookies and some milk."

Hannibal savored her voice as she spoke each word. The diction. Her voice which soothed him so greatly with words of love, affection, cries of passion and anguish.

Two sets of feet pattered down the hallway, laughing. Jessica and Andrew, Hannibal assumed. They emerged from the hallway, Jessica first. Both of them froze in the doorway.

The four men didn't deal with children regularly. They all managed small smiles. Hannibal crouched down and invited them toward him, "You don't have to be frightened. We're friends of Francesca. Aunt Francesca. We're very good friends of hers."

Jessica stood in front of Andrew protectively and looked into Hannibal's eyes calmly. It was then that she let out a high pitched screech.

He stumbled backward and stood back up, struck with the power of her cry.

"Aunt Francesca! Checka! Checka!" Jessica called out, running back down the hallway, but leaving Andrew behind. "There are robbers, th-thieves in the living room. Murderers!"

"What? Andrew! Andrew, get in the kitchen! Right now!" Francesca screamed frantically. They could hear drawers opening and shutting and more calls to Andrew.

However, Andrew was curious to the men. His eyes gravitated toward Murdock who gave him a wink. He was pleased with the captain's affability. To him, nothing was wrong with the men.

"Andrew!" came Jessica's piercing cry.

Footsteps again. "Andrew, get into the kitchen," Francesca shouted, her voice wavering now with grim panic.

Andrew quickly darted back down the hallway.

"I've got a gun!" she said boldly. Her footsteps were slow and paced. "I'm warning you. God help me, I will shoot you until you're stone cold dead on the floor. Do you hear me?"

Finally, she came out of the hallway, her cheeks streaked with tears and the gun held out in front of her. Her tense hands let up on the weapon as she recognized their faces. She lowered it slowly and dropped it. A gape appeared on her face, "Oh my god."

"Didn't mean to cause such a commotion," Murdock sent her a glimmering smile.

Tingling sensations worked up her waist into her mouth. Words could not come out. She felt a little faint, but she could withstand that. Her eyes stared into Hannibal's. Exquisite excitement was not the only thing that filled her, but also a dread anxiety. What danger had they brought with them? How would she tell Hannibal, now in person, about his impending fatherhood?

Nothing from her lips. The only thing she could do was cry, which she had done very well over the past three months. She pressed her hands against her cheeks and smiled, "It's you."

Hannibal went toward her and pried her hands off her face, clasping them in his own, "I told you I'd find you."

"I told you I'd escape. Guess we're both making good on our promises," she whispered, staring up into his sullen smile.

"Kiss her!" B.A. hooted and Murdock joined in. Face was still glued to his chair with practically no pulse.

"I'm not going to now that you're watching," he shot back at them with a small chuckle.

Francesca jumped up, grabbing his coat in her hands, "Oh, yes, you are." She forced their lips together in a kiss that numbed them. Hannibal felt electrified by her touch. It felt so good to hold her again.

"You're never supposed to indulge the peanut gallery, Francesca," he breathed across her forehead.

"Oh, John," she cried quietly. "I've missed you."

"Aunt Francesca, are you dead?" Andrew cried out from the kitchen.

Her eyes shot open and she laughed. They all started to laugh. Breaking away, she went back into the kitchen and said to them, "They're friends of mine. Good men. Come on, you can meet them."

Jessica stood her ground, her arms crossed, "They broke into our house."

"I said they were good, not perfect, now, come on."

The children took an immediate liking to the men. As none of them were particularly experienced with children, their affection was great for them. Andrew and Murdock were kindred spirits, even if one of them was sane. Jessica was enamored by Face's good looks, admiring him naïvely.

Francesca tended to B.A.'s wound. Hannibal sat beside her with a hand trailing up and down her back.

"Did you get it done?" she started to clean the wound.

"Yeah," B.A. nodded. "We got the case and killed Edward McDonald."

"So we think," Hannibal corrected.

Francesca asked, "Where's the case?"

"Somewhere safe," B.A. replied, flinching as she cleansed the wound with alcohol. "How have you been here?"

_Pregnant_. "Fine."

Hannibal noticed her falter. He didn't mention it though.

Later, they were finally left alone in the kitchen. Francesca had started cooking dinner and they silently watched each other, examining each other's bodies with care. She had made sure to put the vitamins away before he could see them.

"Where's Mel?" he asked her quietly, approaching her from the side.

"She's at the hospital," Francesca didn't look up at him.

Hannibal didn't ask why. He lifted her hair away from her shoulder and kissed her neck. He slid his hand around her waist, but Francesca quickly took it and brought his hand to her lips. She held it there for quite some time, taking everything in. The hands of a father. The big strong hands fathers used to hold their children in their arms and brush away the tears. Callused fingers from throwing balls, building tree houses, and putting bandages on cuts.

She kissed his hand and murmured, "John, I love you."

"I know," Hannibal replied and put his forehead against her temple. "I love you."

"What danger are you bringing by being here?"

"We can handle them."

Francesca shook her head, "You can't know that."

"I have faith in us," Hannibal murmured.

"I don't want my family in danger. I don't want any of us in danger. Especially now."

He went silent and dropped his hand from hers. Francesca turned to face him and put her hands on his chest.

"John, I have to tell you something," she took in a deep breath.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes, bewildered, "What is it?"

Pursing her lips, Francesca formulated the words in her mouth. His gaze was full of concern. It killed her. She began to say, "I…I'm pr-"

But was cut off when Face ran into the room. "Hey, boss, B.A. wants to talk to you."

Hannibal groaned slightly and looked to Francesca, "I'm sorry. Tell me later, okay?"

"I'll be here," she smiled delicately and lowered her head.

He left her with a kiss on the temple and a squeeze of the hand. Francesca watched him go and then smiled at Face, "How you doin'?"

"Okay. Watcha making?" he asked her.

"Just some spaghetti," she replied, going back to her business.

Face approached her and looked at the sauce that was simmering in a pot. "Smells good," he said, lingering over her shoulder.

"What do you want, Face?" Francesca raised an eyebrow. When his face fell and he didn't reply, Francesca grimaced, "What's wrong?"

"I know."

She frowned, "What?"

"You're…situation."

"Situation…" she started to put the pieces together, but did not say anything more.

Clearing his throat, Face put his lips almost against her ear as he whispered, "Pregnant."

"Right," her eyes shot open. "My situation—oh right. Yeah. How do you know about that?"

"I found your vitamins on the counter before you got here," Face swallowed. "I assumed they weren't Mel's."

Francesca started to wipe her hands on the skirt of her blue dress and went over to one of the cabinets, "Well. Yeah. I am. Three months."

"And you haven't told Hannibal?"

"I was about to and you interrupted me," Francesca pulled out a box of spaghetti and opened it.

"Why didn't you say in the phone call? Didn't you know?" Face shoved his hands in his pockets. The color was fading again from his Face.

Snapping the spaghetti in half, Francesca dropped it into another pot of boiling water. She raised her head for a moment, "I knew, but I didn't want to tell him. Not that way at least."

"I really don't know what to say to you. Congratulations?" Face said in a snide tone. "Really, congratulations. Jesus, when you tell Hannibal I won't be surprised if he keels over in shock."

"Thanks for the confidence, Face," she hissed and turned back to the pots.

He came up to her and lowered her voice, "Look. I get it. You're scared. But-"

"I'm not, sc-scared," she stumbled through the word.

"Yes, you are. I can tell," Face said definitively. "Hannibal deserves to know. And it's not going to be easy. But you have to try."

Francesca felt tears coming to her eyes, "You know that feeling when you are going around a corner and you're kind of thrilled and frightened to see what it is that's around the corner?" She put down the spoon she had been using to stir the sauce and looked into Face's baby blue eyes. "That's how I feel now. Every second of every day. I'm waiting to see what's happened. I'm worried for my baby's safety. And now that you're back it's a mixed blessing."

Face reached out to her, grasping her hand, "Look, I know you, Francesca. And I know that you are strong enough to handle all this. I swear it'll be easier after you tell Hannibal. Because he's not going to run the other way. He's gonna handle it."

"God, Face you're going to make me cry," she lifted her arms and threw them around him.

"Oh, you want to—okay…" Face accepted the embrace with caution. _Hormones_.

"Thanks."

They were interrupted when the phone rang. Francesca broke the embrace and picked up the landline answering, "Hello?"

It was Mel. "Francesca, get the kids, come to the hospital," she sounded frantic, just as Francesca had earlier.

"Mel! Mel, what's going on?" she asked urgently.

"Francesca, Tommy. It's Tommy," Mel sobbed happily. "He woke up."


	30. Chapter 30: Blessing

**I know it's been such a long time. So to thank all of you, I have an extra, extra long chapter today! Everything is revealed in this chapter and I wanted it to be just great for you guys. I love you all. Enjoy, review, or do whatever, just read! **

**DG**

The boys had to be left behind, no question. Francesca entrusted Murdock with dinner and led the kids into the car. Hannibal followed her out and leaned on the car as she got in, "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, don't worry about it now," she smiled. "I can't think about it now." Of course, she could think about it now. It was her child after all, a part of her. "I'll be home later. Be careful. Don't burn the house down, please."

"Count on it. I'll keep those crooks in line," he winked. "You be safe, okay?" In those few seconds, Hannibal examined the woman he loved dearly. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in cascades of gold and her eyes bore into his soul. She could read him like a book. For some reason he liked that. Feeling controlled by her was a benefit of the relationship. She wore a pretty, blue, cotton dress with three quarter length sleeves and a high neck, perfect for the warm, October weather. The grip on his arm was tight and reassuring. Her hands gracefully tightened around his wrists.

"Yes," _Especially with the…baby_. "Don't get into too much trouble, please. I want you in one piece when I get back."

Hannibal pressed his lips against hers in a tight kiss, warmth building in their mouths, wanting to passionately consummate his return. But there were bigger things, and two children in the backseat who let out cries of disgust as the two adults kissed. They broke apart, Hannibal laughing lightly. His smile seemed endearing as he looked into the back seat. Francesca examined his gaze with care, running her hand up his arm. His muscles were tense as he held onto the car. He turned back to her, "I'll see you all later, okay?" One more kiss on the nose and he stepped away, closing the door. He went up to the front door, looking out at her as she carefully adjusted the children's car seats. Some strange twinge in the pit of his stomach caused a bit of shock for him. Was it want? It didn't matter at the moment. The car went off down the street and he was left with narrowed eyes.

Once they got to the hospital, Francesca, Andrew, and Jessica all went into the Tommy's room. They found Mel sitting beside Tommy, their hands intertwined. He looked up. His blue eyes were grey now, his head missing his blonde hair.

Jessica and Andrew both ran up to Tommy and threw there arms around him. He ran his hands through their hair and kissed them. After what seemed like another millennium, he turned his attention toward Francesca who waited patiently near the door.

"Francesca…" he breathed out.

He looked weak and fragile, but still like Tommy. She approached the bedside and lowered her lips to his forehead, kissing him delicately. Running his hands up her back, he murmured, "You look beautiful."

"Shut up," she replied, clutching his shoulders. She didn't know what to say to the brother she thought she'd never speak to again.

"Thank you," Tommy's voice cracked.

"Stop. Stop it," she pulled away and grinned through her tears.

They started talking as Mel tended to the children. Reminiscing, crying, laughing. Until Tommy started questioning her.

"Any guys?" he put his hand on his stomach, sighing.

"Any guys…well…" Francesca sighed._ Be forthright. Truthful_. "Yeah. There is a guy."

Tommy raised his eyebrows, "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Do I know him?'

"Yes," Francesca nodded, biting her lips.

"Dave? Did you get back together with Dave?" Tommy asked. Dave and Tommy always got along, even when Dave and Francesca didn't.

Francesca shook her head, "No. No, not Dave. Dave actually passed away recently in a fire."

"No!" he sat up a little straighter. "That's terrible."

"Off topic, Tommy…" she gritted her teeth. If he kept talking, she wasn't so sure she'd tell the truth.

"Okay, then tell me, who?"

_This is it_. "You're not gonna get mad or anything, are you?"

"Oh, God, Francesca, who is it?" he groaned, laughing slightly.

"You know him, quite well, actually…" Francesca took his hand in hers. "It's John Smith."

Tommy laughed, "There were quite a few…" His smile faded. "Oh, Jesus Christ."

"Tommy-"

"At the wedding…you were sleeping with him. Oh my God. Francesca!" he wasn't angry, just confused and shocked a bit. Mel glared over at Tommy, fearing the children would overhear and pick up on the meaning. He didn't notice, didn't care to, and instead continued, "I mean…he's my friend, Francesca."

"I love him very much, Tommy."

His gaze softened at that, "You love him?"

"So much," she replied quietly.

Tommy reached his hand out toward her and she accepted it with a squeeze, "Well, how can I interrupt love, huh?"

"It's a good thing that you're not too angry."

"Oh, I'm not angry, just…surprised, I guess," Tommy smiled. "But that's good. I'm happy for you."

Francesca swallowed, "That's not the only news."

"Oh no," he chuckled. "What now?"

Clapping her other hand onto his grip, she smiled meekly, "I'm going to have a baby."

Tommy's eyes brightened to their normal blue. He rolled his eyes and smiled, "You're ridiculous."

They hugged, Tommy babbling and laughing, "I'm going to be an uncle, finally."

Francesca pressed her face against his, glad that she had his support. Even if Hannibal was not in the state to become a father, she had this family. She didn't know if she could afford to lose his love, though.

"So does Hannibal know? About the baby, I mean."

"No…not yet. I'm telling him very soon," she sighed. "I just keep getting interrupted."

Meanwhile, back at the house, Murdock was straining the noodles while B.A. and Face flanked Hannibal at the island. "I want to see it," B.A. begged for the fifth time.

"Fine!" Hannibal gave in and slipped his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a navy, square box and then opened it to reveal a ring. "It was my mother's."

It was a simple golden band with one beautiful diamond in the center. Though so effortless, it was elegant and gorgeous.

"Boss," Face smiled. "You got it right." Face still was worried about the baby. He was pretty sure Hannibal would still marry Francesca with the baby. Hell, he may even be ecstatic. But he didn't know for sure.

"It's perfect," B.A. grinned. "I can't believe you're doing this."

Quickly, he put the ring back in the box and into his pocket. "Don't make me have second thoughts." It did seem ridiculous. Two years of erotic bliss, five years of estrangement, two months of courtship, and then marriage. Hannibal was _not _the romantic one by any means, but it felt right. God, did it feel right. A smug smile crossed his face.

Hannibal looked at the refrigerator and saw a list of numbers. _Mel's Cell: 467-555-3256. _He quickly took out Francesca's old phone, which he had been using for himself and dialed the number. It rang twice before Mel picked up the other line. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mel," he said quietly. "This is John Smith. Could you put me on the phone with Tommy?"

She knew exactly who he was, "Uh…why are you calling, John?"

"Business," he smiled to himself. "I heard he woke up."

There was a pause as the phone was handed over to Tommy, "Hello."

"Tell Francesca to get you a coffee or something," Hannibal said quietly, knowing Tommy would know his voice.

"Francesca, go get me a bottle of water down in the cafeteria," Tommy said.

Hannibal could hear some bickering before Tommy got on the line and said, "She's gone. You know, we were just talking about you."

"Really?" he was slightly confused.

"She told me about you guys," he laughed.

Freezing for a moment, Hannibal mustered the courage to say, "That's what I was calling you about."

"Well, I'm all ears," Tommy sounded a little thrilled. Was it hearing Hannibal's voice or the thought of his sister and him together?

"I just wanted to…well…" Hannibal fleshed out his plan before blurting. "I'm going to ask Francesca to marry me." There was a silence on the other end before he added, "And I'd like your blessing."

Tommy quickly replied, "What a gentleman. Yeah, 'course you get my _blessing_. Just take care of her. Don't get her into too much trouble."

"I'll take good care of her…I can't promise anything about the trouble," he murmured, smiling.

"Worth a shot, right?" Tommy laughed before hanging up the phone.

_Flashback_

"I haven't been on a date in a…really long time," Francesca bit her lip, looking up at the man across the table.

"Neither have I," he replied, smiling. "So I guess we're going to be helping each other get back into the swing of things."

Francesca laughed, pushing some hair out of her eyes as the waiter came by with their drinks. She had ordered a vodka, stiff and strong for a first date, but she wasn't aiming to impress. "So…you work with computers?"

"Ethical hacking. It's the tops," he rolled his eyes.

She laughed, "Oh god."

"It's the unethical stuff that's the fun part," he murmured, bringing his glass of bourbon to his lips. "You're not going to turn me in for that, are you? _Agent _Barrett?"

"Not tonight," Francesca bit her lips flirtatiously and leaned on the table. "So what kind of unethical stuff is this?"

"You're not going to arrest me?"

"Nope."

"Pinky swear?" he held out his pinky toward her and she smirked.

Bringing her pinky to his, she blushed, "Pinky swear." They weren't children, but for some reason, his playfulness and humor made her more comfortable. She hadn't been on a date in two years. Let alone a blind date set up by her partner Andrea Nole, who had seen how morose Francesca had become in the past few weeks and decided that it'd be a great idea. Francesca tried to protest, but was ultimately silenced once another agent, Steve Griffin, teased Francesca for her _perpetual _singlehood.

Her date, Dave Bowman, was a friend of Andrea's sister (she used the term _friend _very loosely) and worked for the government, just like Francesca. But he wasn't any of those hero types that she was simply sick of. He seemed like a normal guy and Francesca needed normal in her life. Without it, she would've gone crazy. But with it, she was different. She was shy and laughed quietly. Her eyes widened at the touch of a man and her heart raced when she thought of promiscuous deeds they could do in the spotless leather interior of his Lexus.

They went through dinner, gallivanting through topics such as favorite drinks to ethics and even a bit of movie history. By the end of the night, they were both a little tipsy as they walked arm and arm out of the restaurant and down a few blocks to the parking lot. Francesca and Dave stopped in front of his car. He said in a low voice, "Why don't we take this party somewhere else?"

She agreed and he began driving, but she convinced him to drive out into Havel's Park, a darkened forest where hikers and lovers alike camped out. They both awkwardly waited for the other to move.

It began as an exploration of the other as Dave pressed his lips delicately across the side of her mouth. Francesca, intrigued by this new conquest, was determined to put Hannibal from her mind and focus on a new man, a new experiment.

By the end, their hands and legs stuck to the leather, sweat dripping down their foreheads. Francesca was out of breath as she shimmied back into her stockings. Dave was good. But Francesca had been with an awful lot of _good _men. She missed the great one.

_End Flashback _

That evening, Francesca and the children returned, leaving Mel with Tommy at the hospital. The children and boys sat down at the table, pulling out chairs haphazardly. They were all quickly served and Francesca sat down between the children who were both still skeptical of the men, but to see Francesca smiling and laughing with them was comforting.

Hannibal and Francesca exchanged occasional glances at silent moments in the meal. When their eyes met, Francesca blushed and Hannibal smiled to himself. He was proud he could do that to her. The glances instilled confidence in his proposal he planned to make. He could just imagine them, settled down, truly. In a house, like this one, but theirs. And he could see them in their bed, laughing in the morning sunlight and touching each other with trembling fingers. Hannibal imagined looking at her hand and seeing his mother's ring on her finger, showing that she was _his_. That she wasn't going to run off, and more importantly, he wasn't going to again. Of course, that was all his imagination in an ideal world.

Francesca was thinking the same thing. But there was that added package. The one thing Hannibal couldn't imagine then, she had to imagine because it was a part of her. She couldn't just forget about it. There wasn't a reason to anyway, since she was so excited about the baby. Scared, yes, but also incredibly excited. She quietly recalled how she had found out.

She walked out of her hearing with Charisa Sosa at her side, feeling nauseous and dizzy. The trial had gone well and now they waited for a verdict, which at the moment, seemed to be leaning toward not guilty. Her stomach surged violently again and she diverted from her ally for the women's bathroom. Charisa followed her, angered by Francesca's flightiness.

"Francesca," she called after her and ducked into the bathroom. She could hear Francesca retching in the stall.

Francesca finished, coughing up a little extra spit. She flushed the toilet and stood, "Yeah. Sorry."

"Are you alright?" Charisa questioned as Francesca left the stall.

"I…" it took a moment for Francesca to formulate her words. "No. I don't think so. I mean…no." Francesca went over to the sink and started to wash her hands before she froze, her eyes closing tightly closed, "I need you to get some things for me, will you do that?"

Charisa came back to the bathroom twenty minutes later with a toothbrush and toothpaste, a bottle of water, and a pregnancy test. She hadn't questioned Francesca after she listed off the items. Frankly, she was furious because she still thought that something had gone on between her and Face. Charisa handed her the bag wordlessly.

So in that bathroom stall, Francesca took two tests and waited with furious anticipation. She was sweating, from heat or nerves, she didn't know. Sure enough, they both were positive.

Francesca went back to the sinks and held one in each hand. She didn't know how to react.

"Whose is it?" Charisa snapped.

Francesca flinched when Charisa's spit hit her face. She reddened and whispered, "John's."

That wasn't something Charisa had expected. Her expression softened, watching tears build up in Francesca's eyes. "I'm sorry…about all of this."

"No…no," she lowered her head. "It's my fault."

"So…was it like a one time thing or…?" Charisa asked her with a quiet, sympathetic voice.

Francesca shook her head, "No. We've known each other for a very long time. And when we were reunited all of these old feelings came back. This was just an accident." A few tears fell down her cheeks, "What am I going to do?" Her biggest fear was being alone. Alone with a baby and the man she loved off saving the world. "I can't…I'm…dangerous."

"Francesca, you have other options, you know," Charisa put it very lightly.

"No," a small smile broke out across her face. "No, I'm keeping it."

Charisa bit her lip, "Look…I'll help you. You know, if you need help. I know that," she lowered her voice so that only Francesca could hear. "That he won't be around. So if you ever need someone else to help or just someone to talk to."

"Thanks," Francesca flushed. In the silence that followed, she lowered her hands to her stomach and laughed to herself. "I think I'm really going to love this." A distraction. A permanent one.

And since then, she had grown to love her baby with all her heart. It was something to live for, someone to live for other than herself. However, telling Hannibal about it was not going to be an easy task. Once everyone finished dinner, Francesca cleaned off the dishes slowly with the help of Andrew who usually got more water on himself than the dishes. B.A. and Face sat watching _The Lion King _with Jessica, thoroughly entertained by the Disney movie. The evening was full of laughter and childish antics. Francesca wondered for how long this could go, this charade of pretending the danger was far away from them.

At about nine, both Jessica and Andrew were ready to crash and only an hour later, so were the boys, except Hannibal, whose heart was beating more quickly every minute as he thought about his imminent proposal. Francesca let them use the guest room and they all piled over the bed with faces smashed into the pillows.

Hushed, Hannibal and Francesca remained in the kitchen. She sat on the counter with her legs crisscrossed while Hannibal leaned against the island. They were talking about life. How she'd gotten to stay out of prison. She told him about Charisa. How they were friends. He was a little worried about this relationship, if it was incriminating or not, but he decided that ever since Charisa had snuck Face that key, it never really was about business.

"So have you talked to her lately?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Francesca nodded. "Just yesterday. She was just giving me some updates on the case, but luckily nothing has come up about me anymore."

"That's all that matters to me," he sighed. "You're safe."

She lowered her head, embarrassed and grateful for the man who stood before her. "What about you guys? What's gonna happen?"

"Unfinished business, I suppose," he shrugged. "Eliza McDonald is still alive."

Francesca looked up into his eyes, "I want you to stay."

"I wish I could, Francesca," he went toward her and put his hands on either side of her legs. Their faces were so close.

"You can…just…be with me. I want you to _be _with me," she was desperate now, thinking about her unborn child that he was still oblivious to. Hooking her arms around his neck, she breathed in, "God, I just love you so much."

A smile passed over his face and he kissed her forehead. "Francesca…" he trailed off and then he said, "I want to ask you something."

"What?" she cocked her head to the side and ran her hands up his chest.

He paused. "You love me. Right?"

"Of course," she laughed. "Was that the question?"

"No, I just wanted to make sure," he breathed out and stuck one of his hands into his back pockets.

"Well, I love you. Of course, I love you," she continued before noticing what was happening. The navy box glared at her with harsh intensity, "John…"

"I've been thinking about this for awhile. I really have," he swallowed, opening the box. "Um…" his hands were shaking a bit. "And no matter how much I push it out of my mind it keeps coming back."

Francesca stared up at him, "John…"

"I guess, obviously, what I'm trying to say is will you marry me?" he asked quietly, showing her the ring inside the box.

Stunned, Francesca choked out a few words before saying through tears, "Oh, god…"

"I know…I'm shit at this kind of stuff," he blushed.

"I wish I could say yes."

His heart leapt, "What?"

"There's something I need to tell you that," she pushed the tears out of her eyes and jumped off the counter. Francesca went past him, leaving space between them. "Something that could just change everything."

Snapping the box closed, Hannibal didn't reply. He had gone white, not expecting the 'no' or whatever it was he got.

Tears began to pile up in her eyes and she crossed her arms, "God, I'm going to ruin everything."

"What're you talking about?" he asked in a worried manner.

"John …" Francesca turned away from him. "I'm pregnant."

The shock of this realization made Hannibal step away from her. He felt his temples begin to palpitate and his legs felt weak. If only there was a chair around. He leaned on the counter, swallowing.

She didn't reply, only folding her hands over her eyes.

Hannibal cleared his throat, a silly smile on his face, "That one time?"

Francesca nodded, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry…" he lowered his head in thought.

"What am I going to do?" she sighed.

He looked down at her, "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean 'what do I mean'?" she turned back to him, her cheeks glistening.

"We're two grown adults. We can handle it."

"We?" Francesca questioned. "There won't be a _we_."

Hannibal frowned.

"You'll be off saving the world, I'll be at home with the baby. It's not right for a child to grow up like that. It'll be me. Alone," Francesca moaned.

He stood up again, "No. It won't be like that."

"You just said you can't stay. This isn't going to change anything!"

"If you would just listen to me, maybe we could straighten this out," Hannibal shouted plainly. He didn't know what he was feeling at that moment. A combination of frustration and anger, he supposed.

She pushed the tears off of her cheeks and managed to whimper, "I'm scared, okay? I don't want to do this alone."

"That's not going to happen. I'm not going to let that happen."

They both were quiet before he asked, "Why are you scared?"

"Oh, God. Let me just show you my resume for being an unfit mother," Francesca said sarcastically. "I could screw something up, ruin my child's life. And I'll have to stop working since you won't be around to help me. And that brings up another point. When will our baby get to see its father?" She looked into his eyes. Hers were glistening and wavering in confusion, "On Christmas? A card for a birthday? How could anyone go through life like that?"

Hannibal interjected, "That's not how it would be."

"It sucks not to have a dad. A man you can come home to who will help you with school projects and teach you how to change a flat tire. It's shit," she continued on.

"But I'd be there-"

"How could you when you're hunted after by the military trying to arrest you, and criminals trying to kill you?"

"Because I'd get here. I could do that."

Francesca shook her head, "You're not God. There's no way you-"

"Listen to me Francesca!" he yelled gruffly.

She immediately stopped talking, looking at the backs of her hands.

"I would find a way to be here," Hannibal's voice wavered slightly. "I…know how hard it must've been. I would not want my child going through…" he stopped for a moment. Such strange words coming from his mouth, he thought. "Going through life without knowing me. I wouldn't be able t-to stand it," in those few moments, Hannibal's eyes had filled with burning tears. "God, Francesca, this isn't just a baby. It's ours," he mused. "Don't you understand that?"

Francesca started to cry again, heaving sighs in her hands. She wasn't sad or angry, but so full of joy and excitement. And nervousness. Hannibal approached her, wrapping his big arms around her tightly, "I love you, Francesca."

"I can't do this alone. I just can't," she murmured into his chest. Francesca looked up at him, "I love you, John."

Hannibal pressed his lips to her forehead. A few tears escaped from his eyes. Francesca felt the wetness on her skin and grinned. "So…Wow," he murmured.

"We're going to have a baby," she giggled through her tears.

"Yeah," Hannibal put his hands on her cheeks. "I couldn't be happier."

Francesca paused for a moment, "Neither could I."

They kissed deeply for a few moments before Hannibal pulled away with bright rosy cheeks. A smile crossed his face. Francesca admired it with her glistening blue eyes as she clung to his arms. "I never imagined having a child," Hannibal sighed.

Francesca didn't reply, but instead took one of his hands, holding the palm outward and placed his hand on her stomach with a quiet smile. They both stayed silent, both of their hands pressed against her stomach in an unimaginable ecstasy. Hannibal stood in amazement. The baby was his. This was his claim, almost. His unspeakable bond. To think that his child was already there was almost an impossible concept.

There was already a small bump there, a curvature that held something so precious to both of them. She reached out her other hand and pushed some of his hair behind his ear. Her hand stopped, wrapped around the back of his head. "H-how far along?" Hannibal choked out awkwardly, forgetting that there had only been one time that this chance could've arisen in the recent past.

"Three months," Francesca bit her lip. "I'm due in May."

Hannibal looked up at her quickly with understanding and fright at the same time. It seemed so soon.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head," she grinned and brought both of her hands to his shoulders. "We've got time," she kissed his cheek lightly.

"We're going to be parents," he said quietly, at a loss for most words.

"Yeah," Francesca nodded with a smile. She lifted her head to look at him, "Does your offer still stand?"

Running his hands up her sides, he smirked, "Definitely."


	31. Chapter 31: No Surprises

**I know you all hate me. But I have had serious writer's block, plus school, plus my life to contend with. I know they're all excuses (albeit, true excuses). Well, here's the chapter. I'm trying to finish up this story in a few more chapters and an epilogue, so things may move quickly, but I think it will be just better that way. Thanks if you're still reading! I love you all!**

**DG**

Midmorning, Face came down the steps to find Francesca curled up on the couch with a magazine and Hannibal doing some stuff on the computer. He immediately noticed the ring on Francesca's finger and sighed, "Congratulations."

Francesca looked up and smiled shyly, "Thanks."

Face raised an eyebrow quickly, questioning her.

She nodded, smiling more boldly and lifting her magazine, showing the title as _Fit Pregnancy. _Face smiled back, relieved, and then turned his attention to Hannibal who had witnessed the interaction that flitted between Face and Francesca.

"You knew?" Hannibal frowned. When Face didn't reply, he looked to Francesca, "He knew?"

"I didn't tell him if that's what you're asking," Francesca laughed and then went back to her magazine.

Face sat on the couch and looked to Hannibal, "I found her vitamins yesterday and I asked."

He closed the laptop slowly and then said without intonation, "I see."

"What's your problem?" Face asked.

"Nothing," Hannibal cleared his throat and rose from his chair.

Francesca looked up again and narrowed her eyes, "John, is something wrong?"

"No," he continued and went to the kitchen.

Face and Francesca exchanged a quick glance. "Is it one of us?" Face said.

"I don't think so," Francesca rose from the couch and put down the magazine. Taking the laptop, she opened it again, and glanced over the pages. There was an email open from an unknown address with a simple, clear message.

_We are coming for them. _

"For them…" Face glanced over her shoulder. "For the plates?"

Hannibal stumbled back into the room, his face paper white and his eyes glazed over. "Face, go get the boys up," he murmured.

Not wanting to be told twice or face the wrath of a quiet Hannibal, Face ran upstairs to rouse Murdock and B.A. Hannibal approached Francesca and took the computer from her. Their eyes met for a moment, a moment that conveyed fear and lusty agreement. When they heard the footsteps of the boys they looked away from each other. Francesca retreated to the couch and folded herself, watching the trees outside the window flitting in the wind.

As the guys stumbled into the room and crumpled on the couch, Murdock whined, "I was having a good dream, boss."

"Yeah, why'd you have to wake us up?" B.A. growled a bit, before biting back on his words.

Hannibal closed his eyes for a moment and then turned back into the kitchen. Everyone was quiet, waiting. Francesca folded a hand over her face and took a deep breath.

Murdock and B.A. both tightened their foreheads in confusion.

Suddenly, Francesca was crying. Face thought he understood and patted her on the back delicately. Tears stuck between her fingers as she murmured, "Oh god, oh god, please…"

Hannibal came back into the room and looked to Francesca worriedly.

"You had to come back, didn't you?" she sobbed. "Jesus. It's over. How could I be so stupid to think that this could all work out?"

Silent, Hannibal ran his hands through his hair and pursed his lips.

"This is the end. Everything is over," she wailed and folded her arms over her stomach.

"What's going on?" B.A. asked incredulously with his eyes widening.

"We have to leave," Hannibal murmured.

"They're going to…" Francesca trailed off, paling. Everything was crumbling beneath her.

Face stood up and looked to Hannibal, "Hannibal-"

"They're coming for Francesca and the baby, not the plates," he said in a low voice.

"What baby?" Murdock interjected with his eyebrows laced into a tight frown.

Francesca looked up, the tires still streaming down her cheeks. Hannibal didn't reply to them, but Face did, "Francesca is pregnant." His voice was small, quiet. Neither Francesca, nor Hannibal objected to the admission.

"No, she's not," B.A. said, trying to convince only himself. "She's not… are you?" he looked over at Francesca who only nodded solemnly.

"We have to run," Hannibal stated.

"Where?" Francesca asked, now anger building in her gaze. "Where are we going to run?"

"We will just run. That's all," Hannibal finished.

Murdock and B.A. were still shocked by the new information they had received. Murdock was more dazed, a smile on his face.

Only a moment later, they heard the front door open. They all turned in shock, in worry. A pair of high heels clipped across the floor. Face held up his gun and held it carefully at the hallway. Francesca held her legs up to her chest. They all just waited.

"Francesca!"

Face dropped his gun and rolled his eyes, "Oh, God."

"In here," she replied, relieved.

Charisa came out of the hallway, holding a shopping bag and her purse. She stood, struck with a strange anticipation building in her gut. Her eyes flitted to each person and finally rested on Francesca, "What the hell is going on?"

"It's a long story, Charisa," she replied, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Why are you here?" Face interjected quickly.

"I'm here to check on Francesca," she snipped. "Thank god I did. What are you doing, tracking around danger wherever you go? Especially to a woman who is not in a…proper state to be around all of this shit."

At that moment, they were disrupted by a gunshot, one that pierced the window and shattered it. It flew over Francesca's head and across the room, lodging itself in the wall. They all cried out, ducked around, trying to gain safety.

"See?" Charisa shouted, dropping her bags and going back down the hallway for cover.

Then, there were showers of bullets from the outside. The walls became riddled with holes. Francesca lunged across the room in a split second, following her friend. Faces hand descended into his pocket for his gun. He positioned it out in front of him, barely threatening to the predators. Murdock and B.A. followed suit, but Hannibal went after Francesca and Charisa, who both were cowering in the hallway. Francesca looked over to him and snapped, "What do we do?"

"Come on," he grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the front of the house. Charisa followed nervously, still carrying her bags. Hannibal lurched for the car keys and fished them off the counter, before rushing outside with the two women. "Boys, get out!" his voice was huge, mesmerizingly loud.

Back in the living room, B.A. was rushing out, trying to keep both Murdock and Face in tow. The gun fire lessened after a bit and then, there was silence. An unbearable amount of silence. The three men looked among themselves. It was like they could hear the ticking, the bomb that obviously lay beneath them or before them.

"Run!" Face shouted at them. They all bolted toward the door.

They were already outside when the echoing boom rattled their brains, pushed them forward toward the car at the curb where the other three sat. A bomb had broken the back of the house and it was hard to believe that they were there only seconds ago and how dead they could be.

B.A. slid into the passenger seat while Face and Murdock jumped into the back where both Francesca and Charisa were cowering. Face and Charisa's eyes met for one second before the car sprinted from it's original position. "Why the fuck are you guys here? What the hell do you think you're doing?" Charisa snapped, still clinging to the bags on her lap.

"Charisa," Francesca said wearily.

"I'm serious, what the hell do you think you're doing?" her eyes were darting from each man with grave warning. "Do you know what you've done?" she shouted.

They were all silent as the car sped off down the neighborhood streets. Hannibal was desperately trying not to listen, not feel anymore guilty than he did.

Francesca's eyes pooled with tears again and they dripped down her face. She tried to hide them. There was no need to make the situation worse by her spewing her emotions all over them again.

"If you didn't already know, Francesca's is gonna have a baby. So you haven't just put a _former agent _in danger this time," Charisa went on.

"Well, we did know, Charisa," Face leaned forward and spat back.

She shook her head, "Then you should've gotten out of here."

"They were going to hurt them no matter what," Murdock came to Face's defense quickly.

"Please stop," Francesca called out meekly.

They didn't, however. "You just saw this. Assassins! Coming after you all," she went on.

"You're caught up in it now, you realize," Face gritted his teeth.

"Please, guys," Francesca called out again, a little louder.

"This isn't safe for any of us, especially not—"

"Stop talking about her like she's not here."

"I don't know how you could all be so ignorant—"

"Please!" Francesca finally cried loud enough for them all to shut up. "Please. I can't be stressed out right now, especially now. So, please."

_Flashback_

"You're incredibly good at pissing me off," Francesca murmured, putting an earring in her left ear. She stared in the mirror, examining the sharp contours of her chin.

Dave looked at her from the bed, folding his tie around his neck, "You're ridiculous."

"I'm serious," she continued. "It's one of your _many _talents," her smirk resonated in the mirror.

"Shut up," he snapped back, standing.

"I don't even want to go anymore," Francesca lowered her head.

"Yeah, well I don't either."

They both were silent. Francesca still stared blankly, letting her heart sink into her gut. "Maybe we should take a break," she murmured. Dave and Francesca had been dating for eight months. They had gotten to the stage where they lived at each other's houses, not willing to take the commitment of living together, but still spending their lives in each other's abodes.

Dave's ears almost visibly perked up at these words, "No. Francesca, no."

"I just need some times to myself, okay?" she stood up, straightening out the teal dress that was draped across her breasts tightly. Dave was not listening, her dress was too distracting. "Dave?"

"I…no."

"You know? Or no?"

"No?"

She frowned, "That still does not get your point across."

"I don't need time," he cleared his throat, slipping his hands into his back pockets. "I don't need it."

"Unfortunately, it's not all about you, Dave," Francesca rose from her seat and crossed her arms.

He couldn't reply. He didn't know how. His eyes filled with tears.

Francesca was shocked at the emotions. None of the screams or anger. It was just great sorrow bubbling in him. "What are you doing?" she swallowed.

"I'm sorry," he turned away, looking out the window.

"What the fuck is going on?" she couldn't help but chuckle a little at how surreal this all was.

"I didn't…oh, shit," he ran a hand over his mouth.

Francesca stopped and listened. There were sobs. They were feminine. It was _strange _and she hated it.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I just…didn't know. I thought we'd stick it out longer than…"

Freezing, she sucked in her cheeks. She made a man cry. It was one thing to kill them, but to beg for mercy with tears was another. "Hey, Dave, look. I wasn't really thinking. We just need to—to talk about this," she reached out for his arm and ran her hand down it.

His back automatically straightened. He looked back to her with a small smile, "Are you sure?"

"I mean, yeah," she nodded, unsure. "I want this to work."

The lies just kept sifting their way through her teeth. Francesca found herself indulging in his smiles, not wanting him to burst into tears again. That was just embarrassing, she thought, and at the same time it was alluring.

That was the beginning of the mind games, the spirals of puzzles and tricks.

_End Flashback_

"I hate all of you," Charisa kept mumbling over and over. "I hate all of you. Just all of you. Why the hell do you have to keep dicking around with my life? Jesus Christ."

They had been driving for four hours, not looking back after the small explosion that had collapsed the living room of the Barrett house. Francesca was sitting beside Charisa, cramped in the back with both Face and Murdock, the skinnier of the bunch. Face had ever so kindly offered Charisa his lap, but she simply sniped back 'bite me'. Hannibal and B.A. had switched positions at B.A.'s insistence. He could see the look of fear in Hannibal's eyes and that was an extremely rare thing.

"Where are we going?" Francesca croaked after her hours of silence.

Lifting his head, Hannibal looked in the rearview mirror at her. Her pastel skin was blushing and her hands were sticky from tears. He couldn't bear it, his mouth contorted into a frown and he closed his eyes. "I don't know," he murmured.

"Pull over," she urgently ignored his comment. Her head shot up, "B.A., pull over."

"What are you talking about?" he kept his eyes on the road.

"Do it!" Francesca screeched in a frustrated voice.

He did as he was told and she stumbled off into the brush on the side of the road, retching up whatever she had eaten that morning. Once she finished, Francesca wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She wanted to cry again. The baby was becoming more real every moment and now there were people out to kill _them. _It really wasn't just her anymore and that was the scariest part. Francesca had always been okay with the idea of death. She realized it would have to happen and that she could at any moment. Now, she was responsible for her child, an accidental, but strangely perfect product of a heated encounter with her lover.

Francesca swore under her breath and protectively rested her hand on her stomach. A mixed blessing, is what she called it.

Hannibal got out of the car and approached her. Her contemplative nature was intimidating, but he pressed forward, "Francesca."

She quietly turned back to him, "I thought we were going to be normal."

"I don't know how many times I can say sorry."

"Our child is at risk now," she continued. "It's not about me or you."

"I know," he swallowed. "I didn't think about this."

Reddening, Francesca whispered, "You couldn't have known."

"Predicted that this would've happened…"

"Yes, I know," she crossed her arms. Their eyes met, finally. They had been avoiding each other's gaze until now. "God, I'm so scared. Why are they after me?"

Hannibal saw her wavering lips and embraced her tightly. The wind started to pick up, a cool, autumn wind. "Because they know that if anything happened to you…to either of you," he started proudly, "That I would be crushed. You know that? And then the four of us would be vulnerable."

She buried her face in his chest and breathed him. Then, she pulled away, put a hand on his cheek, and nodded, wordless. They turned back to the car where the rest of them were airing themselves out. Charisa was hanging out of the backseat and looked to Francesca with a frown, "Can I ask what's going on, now?"

"They have the plates," she replied. "And now…the McDonalds are threatening my life in order to psychologically screw with John," Francesca put her hand on Hannibal's arm.

Charisa narrowed her eyes, "That is sick. That is so sick. Because you know they definitely know about the…"

"The baby, we know!" Face interjected. "We know all about it!"

"Facey, relax," Murdock tried to comfort Face who was obviously on edge.

"I can't! She now involved in this. She has information. Like…there's no way we're going to get out of this or protect Francesca. We are at her mercy," Face shouted in anger. Her mercy was the last place he wanted to be.

Charisa shook him off, "I'm fine here. I'll be part of this."

"How?" Francesca asked.

"I'll figure it out," she pushed the topic away. "There's a family at risk here. And I don't like it when people fuck with family. It's not right."

Hannibal looked to Francesca with an endearing glance which she caught with relief and happiness.

"So, then, what's the plan?" Charisa smiled.

What they settled on was completely unconventional and potentially dangerous, and therefore, the perfect plan for the A-Team. A new house in the middle of San Diego, a new identity, and a new life. Francesca was game. It was a way to maintain a normal life, even if it truly wasn't hers. So now, she was Annie Heller, a woman living off of her husband's money, but alone because of his business obligations. They had absolute security on her place, due to the fact it was right near the mayor's. The McDonalds would not have an easy time getting to them. The house was owned by Face's grandmother who was in a nursing home. Everything was easily taken care of. Both Hannibal and Francesca felt relieved about that.

The evening before the team left, Francesca and Hannibal lay in bed after an impassioned romp which Hannibal had initially been set against. Francesca simply laughed and pulled him to her. So now, they lay, their limbs intertwined and Francesca's lips against his neck, "You don't have to go."

"I do."

"You can protect me here."

"I want to stay," he said and rested his hand in the crook of her waist. Her swollen stomach had grown a bit since he had found out about the baby. A smile grew on his face, "You'll be fine."

Francesca shook her head, "I hope so." There was a comfortable silence that fell over them before Francesca questioned, "When will you be back?"

"I don't know," he sighed, his breath tousling her hair.

And at that moment, she was strangely comforted by that answer. Because it could have meant soon. And soon meant that they could get married as themselves, not aliases or disguises. Of course, she couldn't control when the baby came, so the sooner he came back, the sooner their family truly started.


End file.
